


Interstice

by prettyshiroic (kcgane)



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Belonging, Character Study, Diplomacy, Emotional Roller Coaster, Gen, Introspection, Leadership, Mind Games, Original Character(s), Political Alliances, Psychological Warfare, Season 3 coda, Team Dynamics, Tension, arms race, the wild ride is about to begin buckle up
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-25
Updated: 2017-08-25
Packaged: 2018-12-19 09:39:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 34,792
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11895012
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kcgane/pseuds/prettyshiroic
Summary: Everything he had done was for this. He thought the team knew that. Eyes narrowed, Keith growled.“Lotor is our course!”“No Keith. Lotor is your course! If we can't form alliances then we can't stop Lotor.”-In pursuit of Lotor, the paladins find themselves thrown into a pressing situation deep in the Orconia system. Tensions run high on planet Tukarius, with the future of the universe depending on securing an unexpected alliance. It starts with diplomacy, and it just might end with Keith.





	Interstice

“Argh, no!” Keith hissed.

_Not again._

They’d been _so close_ this time to keeping up with Lotor, _gaining on him_ and having a slight advantage to make a move. But the comet ship was too fast. Evasion when it mattered was something Lotor’s team were good at.

They were good at a lot of things.

Fingers clasped the armrest tighter as they lost sight of the ship completely. Gone. Too fast. Too many steps ahead of them. That struck something inside of Keith. Eyes narrowed, he snapped his sharp focus over to the green paladin.

“Pidge! He's getting away. Figure out where he's going.”

Sentences were clipped, earning a raised eyebrow from Shiro and a few concerned looks he didn’t bother acknowledging. Pidge, however, was unfazed by the untamed fire in his voice.

“On it.”

Tapping away at the keyboard, she pulled up a screen for the team to read from. Keith watched attentively, leaning forwards in his seat. Under his breath he murmured a frantic mantra, _come on, come on, come on._ His words were either unheard or ignored by the team. It didn’t matter. Keith wasn't aware of their reactions at this stage, his priority being whatever the screen was going to reveal to them. They had to keep up. 

A few moments later, the glitching hologram of a planet appeared. It was hardly viewable. 

“Pidge.”

“ _I’m on it.”_ She sounded a little more agitated at Keith’s insistence. As the image came into better view, Pidge evaluated the information. “Hm. It looks like Lotor is approaching the planet Tukarius.”

At the words, Allura’s eyes widened.

“What? _Impossible.”_

Adjusting glasses, Pidge continued rallying off information at a rapid pace.

“No it’s _definitely_ Tukarius, the sixth planet in the Orconia system, home to-”

“-The Tukarians,” Allura finished with a hitched breath. That had Keith sitting up in an instant. It was clear in her expression something was greatly amiss. Whatever this was, it wasn't good. A frustrated sigh caught in his throat; as if things couldn't get _any worse_ for them right about now.

“Allura, what is it?” Shiro asked.

“What's going on Allura?” Keith said at the same time.

They looked at each other for a fleeting moment. An unspoken question resonated between them, but neither budged. Yielding wasn’t something Keith could do right now, not in this pressing situation. In weighted silence they _waited_ for Allura’s response. Coran stepped forwards instead, providing an answer.

“The Tukarians were a great people, known and revered for their skills in making weapons. Though they were said to have disappeared many eons ago, and with them their armoury.”

“Armoury?” Shiro frowned. Keith bit down hard on his lip, not liking where this was going. An armoury sounded like a big deal.

“Yes,” Allura confirmed, expression hardening. “They have always kept their creations on their homeworld. But the whereabouts of their planet remained quite a mystery. _”_

“Supposedly, Tukarius has the biggest armoury in the universe. Sometimes I… well. I often thought it was just a myth. They certainly kept their whereabouts as hidden as a dulazak at dawn,” Coran began, tugging at his moustache.

"A...  _what_ now?" Hunk probed. 

"A dulazak! A giant creature that burrowed deep beneath the ground of Altea! Why my great grandfather claimed to have once seen one when he was just a-"

Keith clenched his jaw. They really didn't have time for this. 

"If it's such a mystery, then how come Lotor knewwhere to go?" The distress was growing, something Keith latched onto as he voiced his concerns. If it was well hidden, then they shouldn't even _be here._ But it didn't change the fact they _were here._ They'd found it. And now there were in range, Pidge's system had picked up and detected the planet without a problem. That couldn't have been _possible_ without Lotor leading them this far in the first place. It didn't feel right. _Nothing felt right._  

Composure faltering, Allura frowned. Keith's question was something nobody seemed to have the answer to. Perhaps, it also was the kind of question nobody  _wanted_ the answer to either. What lay beneath the words was hardly comforting. 

"It has been ten _thousand_ years Keith," she offered weakly after a beat. "Not everything in the universe is what it was. There's a chance our information could be outdated." It wasn't an answer, because in truth she didn't _have_ an answer to give. Lotor remained one step ahead. Still. And he knew more.  _So much more._ This was just further proof of that. 

“There's also a chance it's true. Maybe they really do have everything you said and more.” Shiro looked up, eyes trailing over the hologram of the planet. Keith hadn't seen that fascinated _awed_ expression for a while; it would’ve been more appreciated in better circumstances.

“It _must_ be true if Lotor is here,” Allura hissed, unable to keep the disdain from her voice.

“You think Lotor’s going there for more ammo?” Keith asked, eyebrows knitted together. That implication sat badly with him. Because it wasn't really an implication - it was far more serious than that. Knowing everything they knew about Lotor so far, which was alarmingly _very little,_ flying way out here was no accident.

“It's quite possible,” Allura concluded, gazing between Coran and the screen. Tension visibly swathed over the pair of them. Something unspoken passed, and Keith couldn't take the secrets any more. Private conversations between eyes, slid into the silences. There were too many things beneath the surface of the team, too many things he didn't understand but was  _trying_ to. 

“What is it?”

Allura averted her eyes.

“There's... another issue.”

“Although the Tukarians live amongst this system, planet Tukarius is part of the Independent Space Collective,” Coran explained.

“Well - not really independent if they're a collective,” Hunk remarked absently. All eyes turned to him. “What? I'm just saying if you're independent then you're _independent_ not independent together. If you’re independent as a group then you're not using the word properly and something like association would be better or _society_ or maybe-”

Stifling a frustrated groan, Keith attempted to keep his cool. The heat was thrumming through his veins. Every second wasted, every joke made was leading them off track and helping Lotor get further towards _whatever_ his goal was.

“We don't have time for this! Allura, what does that mean?” Keith moved to stand beside Allura.

“It means that they seldom make alliances with _anyone._ The weapons they have created and wield is what has kept them safe for the last thousand years. Without their permission and drawing an agreement, Lotor won't get very far. Nor would he stand a chance at stealing them. An attack on their planet would be very foolish.”

“At least an attack with guns and ships…” Lance began.

“And so the balance shifts.” Hunk finished, high-fiving the blue paladin much to the confusion of the rest of the group. Great. More secrets. More things Keith didn't understand and clearly wasn't a part of.

“So Lotor’s going to try and form an alliance with the Tukarians.” Shiro made his way to the front, standing on the other side of Allura. There was a space beside Keith, unfilled and vacant. It stayed that way. It always seemed to lately. Keith wasn't sure why that stung _that much_ , the fact he could feel the space growing. But he pushed it aside hastily, stepping into the space himself.

Now wasn't the time for that.

“If he forms an alliance he’s gaining not only numbers, but an entire armoury.”

“Yes.” Allura nodded in Shiro’s direction. “Which is exactly why we need to get down there and schedule a meeting with the Tukarians ourselves.”

“Why does Lotor _need_ an armoury?” Keith pursed his lips, scanning the screen for whatever he seemed to be missing. He found nothing, only more questions and foreboding _unease_ in his gut. Something didn't feel right here, with _any of this_ . “He already has the entire _Galra Empire_ eating out his hand.”

“Maybe not,” Shiro responded, arms folded. And _there it was,_ budding tension tugging them apart. A statement that should’ve been simple, now coaxing Keith closer to the edge of his composure. “He attacked that Galra base before. We don't have the full story yet. Pidge-”

Making his way to the central station on the bridge, Shiro paused by the seat. It was evident he had half-expected to sit. But Keith had gotten there first, eyes still fixed pointedly on the screen. It was easier to look there than anywhere else. His gaze was sharp. His focus, however, was not. Because he could feel Shiro hovering over him, and the huge shadow he cast towered over every decision he made. It was increasingly more difficult to ignore this, ignore _him._ Especially when he was speaking so close to Keith, _overruling him._

“Set a course. So long as we’re careful but quick we have a chance at intercepting Lotor.”

Chewing his lip, Keith cleared his throat before speaking. He was no good at this game, gauging when his leadership did and didn't matter. Either way, it did little for his splintering self-doubt.

“Hunk, think you and Coran can do something to boost the engines? We gotta move fast.”

He could feel Shiro’s eyes on him; he didn't dare look.

“I could open a wormhole-”

Busying himself with buttons he knew nothing about, Keith readied himself to interject Allura’s proposal. But another voice cut through. _Of course._

“-No,” said Shiro, pressing a hand to Allura’s shoulder supportively, _like a leader would_. “We’re close enough to make it in two vargas. You used a lot of strength in our last battle. We need you at your best if we have any chance at winning this alliance.”

“Very well,” Allura conceded, heading to the control lectern. It glowed beneath her hands. Despite respecting Shiro’s words, there was something stubborn in her eyes; a challenge. “But I will still help power our main system from here.”

“Okay, course set!” Pidge called.

Keith worked the controls on the panel, finally getting something from the button-pushing; Shiro was still right behind him. Part of him wanted to spin around and address it, the other part wanted to disappear. It wasn’t a comforting presence, it was one that had his nerve shaking. Every move he made felt watched, _scrutinised_ . Keith hated the undercurrent of it all - this _test_ of his leadership.

Shiro believed in him from the start, had constantly shown support for this to happen. Now it _was_ happening, that ebbed into something Keith didn’t understand. It was a far cry from the unconditional support and patient care Shiro had always mustered. _Even when he was bleeding out and delirious with pain._

“Follow me, Hunk!” Coran chirped, breaking Keith from his thoughts. “We may be able to use a smaller part of the balmera crystal to boost our fuel.”

“Oh! That’s clever.” Hunk excitedly stood, prying for more details as they walked down the hallway.

Silence fell on the bridge, then. The awkward and loitering kind nobody knew quite how to break or whether they should. Pidge tapped her fingers on the desk, glancing between Shiro and Keith. Realising the hesitation, that she was waiting for instructions, Keith looked over his shoulder.

“Punch it, Pidge.”

**♞**

Considering all the grand talk of the Tukarian people’s accomplishments, their planet was less majestic than expected. It was a little bigger than earth. The shimmers of metal grew clearer the closer they got. And, much to Keith’s surprise, so did a lot of green. Much like the Olkari’s homeworld, dense forests covered a vast amount of the surface.

As they descended, Coran explained some of what they were seeing. There was pride to his voice, clearly thrilled with having the chance to pass knowledge along to the team. Jaerra birds with vibrant red and blue feathers, yet with songs so poignant they could move even the most stoic to tears; deep caves that bled into a network of intricate tunnels, a safeguarded armoury carved into earth itself; pink skies that turned emerald at nightfall; the reservoir that rested at the edge of the capital city; large stone pillars signalling the way towards the settlement.

Apparently, the Tukarians were keen on preserving as much as the natural environment as they could. Though unlike the Olkari, the majority of technology they harboured and developed had an agenda that could only be used in the context of war. Weapons.

Upon landing, the natural beauty of the planet was more impressive. Small wisps of cloud lined the sky, with a deep red sun. Blood orange, Lance joked to the confusion of Allura (and the _exasperation_ of everyone else). Keith too. He rolled his eyes at Lance’s surprise, because _yes he understood the reference._

“Just because I lived out in the desert doesn’t mean I’m some sort of hermit,” he scoffed, pushing his way through the vegetation.

For a moment, Keith almost felt the burning heat of the desert sun on his back, the sharp biting wind that swept past his collar. Solitude forged from sand, isolation built on the pyre of his purpose. A loneliness that for the first time in Keith’s life had _felt_ lonely, had shackled him to endless vacancy.

In the wake of a devastating _terrible_ loss, Keith had found himself tossed into the heart of turbulence all over again. Aimless. Directionless. The anchor that gave weight to each and every action, the gravity that had been a monumental force in his life - it had been pried away without remorse.

Shiro had disappeared.

And so the distressing, draining cycle of the universe began.

Gone. Then he was back. But that time was borrowed, _owed_ in ways that were unfair and _unexplained._ Not impossible, because the universe had no rules or laws. Because suddenly, Shiro was gone again. Then he was back. And the metronome of time swung them back and forth viciously - no, not viciously. It was impassive, uncaring. Unlike Keith, the universe didn’t care for their existence, it only provided the backdrop for it.

And Keith wanted to believe with every fibre of his being this wasn’t some mirage crafted meticulously by his own desperation or by the intensity of his _desire_ to see Shiro safe and well. He wanted to believe that the sheer determination to do right by Shiro had broken the chain.

Keith wanted to believe that Shiro was here and he was here to stay.

“Uh - it kinda does,” Lance replied.

Blinking, Keith glanced over to Lance in confusion. Oh, _hermit._ Right. Up ahead, the outline of a city was in sight. They were relatively close after trekking for some time, but Allura deemed it best they kept the castle outside of the perimeter in case of a bad reception.

Coran had remained back at the castle, ready to deploy emergency protocol and keep an eye on the castle of lions. Despite the new planet, he had seemed a little reluctant to leave the ship unattended. That, and he felt it best to have somebody there to monitor from afar.

Hence all the walking.

“You’re missing the point here.”

_And talking._

Pidge flicked Lance’s shoulder with a grin.

“Keith likes memes.”

Like was an overstatement. Keith knew what they were, that’s as far as it went.

“Memes?” Allura frowned.

Before Lance could cut in, Keith did. It was better for everyone.

“Don’t ask, Princess.”

“Hey Keith.” Hunk pushed past a thick branch, momentarily losing balance. “Do you listen to music? Do you have a favourite band?”

“Why all the questions suddenly?”

Keith’s eyebrows furrowed; he was unable to piece this together. They’d shared trivial information with each other before, but not like this. This was bordering smalltalk, the awkward icebreakers they all endured back at the garrison on the first day. Still, Keith’s lips upturned a fraction. He wasn’t _keen_ on being in the spotlight, but the team were taking an interest in him. That had to be good. They were bonding.

“Well you’re our leader now, aren’t you?” That had Keith’s smile waning, eyes cast down. _Oh._

“And you’re kinda mysterious? At the garrison, Lance used to be intimidated and super impressed with you. Sometimes, I actually didn’t know who he looked up to more - you or Shiro."

 _What._ Eyes snapping back up, Keith gaped at the words. Those were some pretty unexpected words. That also didn’t sound like a rivalry. Not the kind Lance had painted at the beginning. In truth, those words sounded worlds away from _dislike._ Jealousy. Begrudging admiration, distorted _ambition_ constantly heading someone else’s way _._ At the garrison, through not only natural talent but his hard work and sheer grit of will, it had come Keith’s way.

Lance had doubts.

Keith knew this, he had _seen this._ But perhaps these insecurities ran far deeper, etched into places Keith couldn’t see. And despite them being on good terms now, he felt something twist sharply in his gut. Maybe there were more things he and Lance had yet to unpick before truly reaching the other side of the rickety bridge they were crossing together.

“What, no I didn’t?! Stop lying, Hunk!” Lance exclaimed with far too much enthusiasm, face tinged with all the telltale signs of embarrassment. The reaction was delayed, clumsy. Keith turned away, not wanting to make it uncomfortable for Lance. He’d been on the receiving end of open-ended stares many times himself.

“Anyway, that wasn’t the point.” Hunk brushed a hand towards Lance, dismissing the protest casually. “The point is that you never tell us anything about yourself!”

“You never asked.”

Keith shrugged, because it was true. He didn’t _mind_ it _,_ either. He could waver on this precarious line of remaining a ‘loner’ and falling deep into cold water he may never escape. His entire life had been a balancing act, teetering over the edge of his own oblivion. It was exhilarating, the kind that was all consuming and thrummed in his veins. But it was also _exhausting,_ especially to ride the highs and lows with nothing but the wind carding through his hair and the knife tucked into his belt _._

Endurance meant very little in the face of some obstacles.

“Well, now it seems like Hunk is asking!” Allura laughed jovially, helping Pidge untangle herself from a cluster of branches that stuck to her suit. A few curses were muttered under her breath, much to the amusement of Lance.

“I am asking, right! Keith - I’m asking about you, you should answer. Stat.” Hunk nodded, marching into step beside Keith who remained silent. Honestly, it was a little _bizarre_ to have so much attention this way.

“Just tell us something, anything to erase the mystery. I need more to work with than you trying to be our new leader and the only Galra of the group, with a nice smile who can sometimes make jokes and sometimes kind of explodes and really missed Shiro when he was gone.”

Wincing as if physically struck by the force of the words, Keith hitched a shaky breath. _Well._ That was way too much packed into that sentence. He knew Hunk was just rambling, out of jittery excitement and apprehension, but sometimes he really went and put his foot right into things that should be carefully manoeuvred around. And that was coming from _Keith_ who so often had all his cards splayed across the table. Tension thick in his voice and impossible to dispel, Keith responded.

“See. You already know plenty about me.”

 _But you don’t understand me._ Shiro was somewhere nearby, _hopefully out of earshot._ Keith couldn’t be dealing with his reaction right now - or the lack of one.

“Come on, Keith! Just _one thing!_ ”

It was baffling, a turnaround Keith struggled to keep up with. Because mere hours ago the team were disagreeing with him, his attempts at leadership slipping uselessly through his fingers. This moment of easy conversation, something closer to friendship than _teammates,_ was only temporary. Getting to the city would set everything back on track. Right now however, there was little Keith could do about Lotor.

Okay. Something about him.

Releasing a sigh, Keith drummed his hands against his thighs as he walked. All whilst scrambling for _something_ to offer the team. The rest of the group had gone quiet, as if curiously waiting for his answer. Of course, when it counted, every damn thing he found interesting evaded him. It left Keith with nothing but an empty disappointing answer. And one hell of a headache.

“Why don’t you ask Shiro.”

The absent suggestion was mostly to buy himself time. It wasn’t until after the words fell so naturally that he realised what exactly he’d done. The colossal mistake he’d made. Shiro froze. Glancing over, Keith caught the flash of panic as the other clutched a dangling branch for support. The twist of muscle between his eyebrows indicated his head was playing up again.

Right. Another headache.

They were connected by that, at least.

“I’m sorry,” Shiro murmured, vacantly staring at the ground. “I can’t -... I-”

Keith couldn’t let that sentence end, for both their sakes. _Shiro couldn’t remember._ It stung,  did nothing for growing unease inside of Keith.

“We can do this some other time. We have to get down to to the city.”

And just like that, the carefree atmosphere blooming between the team vanished. As Keith took a step forwards, the tension bled into everything and anything. Shiro didn’t remember. He didn’t _remember_ he-

“Stand down!” Someone called out from up ahead.

Guards.

Within moments, they surrounded the paladins. Out of reflex, bayards were immediately drawn. All of the guards shared similar qualities that must’ve been inherent to Tukarians: skin as pink as their sky, almond eyes with thin slits, and scaly thin tails.

“Who are you?” one asked, spear pointed towards them. A wedge was being made between the group with the weapons _, deliberately._

Keith found himself back to back with Lance, rifle poised and sword in position to strike. He had every confidence they could hold their ground if needs be. On their other side, Allura held up a hand placatingly, looking anything _but_ as three Tukarians stepped forwards into the circle the guards had created around them.

The first was a woman, clearly of high stature. A beautiful crystal crown shimmered in the sun against her forehead. She was adorned in regal attire, from the long purple cloak to the intricate lace around the bottom of her gown. It wouldn’t take a genius to figure out she was important. Lines were etched into her face, denoting a lifetime of wisdom and experience. From the way the guards and the other Tukarians followed her, they were marks of a long-lasting leader, _earned_ and respected.

Behind her stood a younger woman, bustling and unable to keep still. There was a slight spring to her presence. Even when she wasn’t walking, she seemed teeming with dynamic energy. Long emerald hair was pulled into a ponytail that swished as she leant forwards. Bright-eyed and bushy tailed - _quite literally._ Unlike the first woman, her tail had no scales.

And the third and final Tukarian was a man in dark formal robes. Blond hair was trimmed neatly, a small beard turning white at the tips. His cheekbones were set higher, with ridges that accentuated sharpness. Eyes were also a little thinner, systematically assessing each paladin.

Keith inched a little further forwards, blade clenched tightly. His foot crunched against leaves, the guards turning their attention to him. The spears were pointed in his direction. Spears like he’d never seen before. Strange electricity ran through the tip, a dull glow emanating off the metal.

It looked like a hit would hurt.

More than a lot.

“I am Chancellor Darosa," the woman in the centre announced, to which the guards bowed their heads. “What brings you to our world?"

Keith pursed his lips, unsure what to say. Lying wasn’t his speciality, and neither was diplomacy. He glanced over to Allura, prompting her to speak, only to find he didn’t need to. She and Shiro were already exchanging looks, deliberating the next move of the team. _Leading_ without him. Plastering a smile to her face, Allura extended a hand with enviable confidence.

“I am Princess Allura of Altea, and these are the paladins of Voltron. We wish to seek an alliance with you.”

Taking the hand, Darosa shook it briefly. A considering hum left her lips as her eyes trailed over the group.

“You are not the first to arrive today claiming such things.”

The admission knocked the breath from Keith’s lungs. _No._

Lotor was already here.

“How... interesting!” Allura pushed the smile further onto her face, with a laugh that broke in all the wrong places.

“Edax.” At Darosa’s call, the younger woman bounded forwards. “If you would be so kind as to escort these _paladins_ to their quarters.”

With budding enthusiasm, Edax cleared a path through the guards. As her eyes met the green bayard, she clasped her hands together excitedly.

“Altean technology is truly fascinating!” She admitted. “I haven’t ever had the chance to see it up close.”

Talk of technology immediately secured Pidge’s interest. Lance and Hunk joined in the discussion, seeming to already enjoy the company of Edax. But Keith remained silent, wedged awkwardly between Allura and Shiro. As current pilot of the black lion, he ought to be paying attention to what else may be said.

Extending a hand towards the robed man, Darosa inclined her head.

“This is Garoude, a most trusted member of my council.”

Darosa seemed unsure who to address, darting her focus between the three of them. Keith didn’t know how to assert himself, _didn’t know if he wanted to_ . Diplomacy seemed realms away with the knowledge _Lotor was here._ Besides, Allura was better at this. Letting her coax them into a meeting was for the best. That way, they literally had an open door to strike at Lotor.

Getting into the city where Lotor was lurking had to happen.

An attack was imminent on either front.

Keith was going to ensure they had the upper hand, no matter what.

As if on cue, Allura reached forwards to shake hands with Garoude. That seemed to be enough for Darosa.

“Come with me, Princess,” she said to Allura. “We shall speak together with the council.”

**♞**

Tukarians certainly had a talent for impressive architecture and innovative design. The city was sleek, squeaky clean and exactly like the kind of places Keith had read about in old school science fiction novels. Futuristic. _Incredibly futuristic_ in a nostalgic way. Yet also nothing like that at all. Unlike all the books Keith had read, this city didn’t have towering skyscrapers or high-rising buildings. In fact, they were all fairly level, besides the city hall which rose up for all to marvel at.

A smile had tugged at his lips, because Keith honestly hadn’t picked up a book for a long time. He hadn’t considered skimming over short fanciful stories. Not even the pocket edition of _The Illustrated Man_ tucked into one of his fanny packs. There was too much to do out here, too many battles to fight.

Not all of them were against the Galra Empire. Some were unspoken; internal.

Edax had talked the entire duration of the walk, explaining the mechanics and intricacies of the Tukarian ways. Pidge had zealously asked questions, Hunk diving in to follow suit. Within moments, the pair of them were swept into a conversation with Edax Keith couldn’t even hope to follow. By his side Lance had walked, shrugging when Keith turned to him for an explanation. Of course, Lance hadn’t known what they were talking about either.

For the entirety of the walk, Shiro had lingered just a few steps behind. Whether out of an innate need to secure their perimeter and look out for the team or something more personal, Keith hadn’t been sure. He _didn’t like_ not being sure. Especially when it came to Shiro. And as they reached the quarters provided for them, Keith became less sure of _so much more._

Six rooms led out from the main common area. Lance and Hunk had fought over dibs, the blue paladin declaring he got the room closest to the bathroom. Pidge was less fussed and Shiro still wasn’t speaking. Keith didn’t bother to take more than a fleeting glance into one of the free rooms. The beds were huge, the space more than adequate. Walls were lavished in glitzy decor and laden with all sorts of technology that was far too complicated for Keith to try figuring out.

Edax left them in peace.

At least, she _thought_ she did.

“Holy crow! This place is _amazing!”_ Lance whistled in awe, flopping onto the couch.

With a content sigh, he threw his arms behind his back and sunk further into the seats.

“Don’t get too comfortable,” Keith chided, leaning against the wall.

His arms folded instinctively as his eyes pressed shut. They’d barely settled, but the wait for Allura to return was already becoming agonising. Time was _slow;_ it stretched far too languidly. And nobody was talking about Lotor, or what they should _do_ to stop Lotor. It was almost as if _everyone_ had conveniently forgotten the very reason they came down here in the first place.

“Aw man, can’t you just relax for a second?” 

Eyes snapping open, Keith glowered. Lance expected him to _relax_ when they were dealing with quite possibly their biggest threat? When the black lion had chosen Keith as its pilot yet everything was still a mess? When Allura and Shiro-

“Lance is right,” Shiro said  whilst perching on the edge of the couch. “There’s not much we can do until we know whether Allura secured that meeting.” Pause. His eyes flicked up to Keith. “You deserve a bit of downtime.”

If _anyone_ deserved downtime it was Shiro. But it was the wrong time to be bringing that up, even more so with the others in earshot. Not to mention, he wasn’t entirely sure how Shiro would respond. Everything Keith said to the team seemed to be backfiring. Nothing he said came out right, or was understood. Staying quiet in the corner, _like the loner should,_ was probably better for all of them.

He wasn’t sure how much time passed that way, keeping himself to himself. The rest of the team had settled on the couch. Conversation became intermittent. Then non-existent. Then _finally,_ the doors opened to reveal Allura. Looking up with interest, Keith watched her step inside.

“ _Please_ tell me you got us a meeting,” Lance practically whined, clearly exhausted and bored of sitting around. Keith honestly felt the same, though with more budding irritation pecking away at his patience.

Hands clasped together, Allura beamed. It was her first _excited_ smile for some time. That had to be a good thing.

“I got us a meeting!”

The team cheered, all but Keith who pushed off the back wall and moved closer.

“Aren't you all forgetting something.” Despite the questioning - perhaps _concerned -_ look from Lance, he held his ground.

“Here we go again,” Hunk muttered under his breath to Pidge who hummed in agreement. They weren’t trying very hard to be discreet. Keith caught the words and it had the irritation flaring into something more strained.

“I'm not - I’m not _saying_ this stuff isn't important, but it's -... Allura, when you said we were saving the universe I just thought we would be doing more saving than _sitting around_ telling other people about how we’ll save them and _wasting time_. Lotor is here somewhere and-”

“-Lotor?” Shiro neither looked nor sounded impressed. The air of calm that had washed over him dissipated. All that was left were thin wires of exasperation tugging his lips together. Sighing, Shiro pinched the bridge of his nose. “That's what this sulking of yours is about?”

Sulking.

His words seemed to catch everyone around off guard. Keith watched the expressions of the team morph into open surprise. He too was equally surprised. This was the first time Shiro had reverted to this: treating him like some kid, like a _subordinate cadet_ back at the garrison still learning and enrolling into a new routine. It was humiliating and unwarranted. Shiro had never treated him like this - even _at_ the Garrison.

It pained Keith more than he could articulate, because it continued to hammer in a dark truth. One he’d been grappling over since the day he rescued Shiro in the black lion and set his eyes on him face to face - or, _this Shiro_ he should say.

“I'm not sulking.”

He wasn't. This was about more than Lotor, so many things Keith had _no idea_ how to voice. Or if he even _should._

“Then what are you doing?” Shiro challenged. “Besides causing disruption to team?”

“I'm _telling you_ it feels like we’ve wasted time.”

Eyes flicked over to Shiro. He could barely meet the gaze. Shiro chased his eyes, Keith let him. He refused to yield on this. If Shiro wanted to play it this way, Keith would give it his best shot.

“Dude. Not all battles are done with swords and badass ninja skills,” Lance said, leg flicked over the side of the couch. He didn't seem to register he’d paid Keith a compliment. That, or he was okay with doing so.

“Sometimes we have to be like super charming and spectacular masterminds of diplomacy.”

“Guess that counts you out,” Pidge teased with a sly grin.

“Hey! I detest that!” Lance cried, arms flailing up in the air. The pair of them were trying to ease the tension. But it was too little too late.

“Keith,” Allura turned to him as the others fell silent to listen. The stern sharpness in her expression wilted, making way for something more empathetic. Not pitiful though, and Keith could appreciate that much. It seemed he wasn't the only one finding this difficult.

“I understand what you're saying. But we won't have anybody to save if we don't talk to others. And we can't complete this mission alone, no matter how strong Voltron is we need our allies. We can't possibly hope to win against Lotor if we don't earn the respect and trust of the Tukarian people.”

“Allura’s right.” Lance eyed Keith carefully. “We can't just dive in there and go all guns blazing.”

Sighing, Keith folded his arms across his chest. Everything felt tight, uncomfortable.

“Whatever. You guys go in there and tell them how everything's fine and we’re doing a _fantastic_ job out here. I’ll just...” - shrug, something so very unlike him resonated. Defeatist, _dejected._

“Keith.” Allura stood in unison with Lance. “You ought to be there. As a part of Voltron-”

“-As the current pilot of the Black Lion,” Lance added. And whilst he was trying to be supportive, it hardly helped Keith with _anything._ It just was more and more confusing. Lance had been swinging between agreeing and disagreeing with Keith since the lion switch-up. He couldn't seem to make up his damn mind.

“Can you just _lay off?”_ Keith yelled, taking a defensive stance. “I’m not - I’m no leader, okay? The _only reason_ the black lion chose me is because Shiro believed in me.” His voice softened, attention thrown to the ground.

Shiro was unnaturally still, watching from the sidelines. Keith winced. The shame rose, choking him and smothering his lungs. He barely swallowed the building lump in his throat.

“ _Keith…”_ he heard Shiro murmur. “Do you really think that?”

The pressure burst in Keith’s lungs, pushing the air out violently. It took every ounce of remaining discipline not to let the internal turmoil show. The silence said more than anything he ever could. It revealed the cracks in his composure, all the pieces Keith was barely holding together. A few moments later, he could finally trust his voice to speak.

“That's all there is to it.”

Pause.

“Keith,” Allura tried in place of Shiro, but right words evaded her. That was confirmation enough. Things were a mess - Keith wasn't helping anything.

“I know I'm not the leader you wanted. You don't have to pretend or try to make me feel better. It's okay.”

It was far from okay. Doing this in front of the others, exposing the magnitude of his own insecurity, was uncomfortable. Though something told Keith it would've been much worse in private, more vulnerable with fewer places to hide.

“You've been doing fine Keith,” Shiro said softly.

But he didn't move to reassure him, he didn’t make any conscious effort to reach out. Keith frowned, the words hanging awkwardly between them. He wanted to believe them, to believe in _Shiro,_ but he just couldn't. Not now. All he could hear were poisoned words: _sulking._

Unable to do much else, Keith nodded weakly.

“Uh guys. Sorry to um break the conversation up but it's just they're kinda calling us in.” Hunk poked his head round the corner to check on the situation _._ ”Yeah, they're calling us in we should probably go.”

“Then let’s go.”

With a clenched fist, Allura stepped forwards. Shiro nodded in agreement and steeled himself beside her. A fleeting glance was cast over to Keith, but no more. Pidge followed them, as did Hunk. Lance was the only one to turn back to Keith, eyebrow raised. At his hesitation, the others too came to a halt. Suddenly, all eyes were back on Keith. Lowering his head, Keith cast his fiery gaze on the Paladins. His _team._

“You guys go. I’ll stay here.”

His insistence left no place for a dispute. But the discord was visible. Shiro fumbled over words, clearly displeased. Pidge looked uneasy, Hunk looked upset _for_ him. Allura had already turned her back, devoting herself to the task in a way Keith so often mirrored. Lance was frowning. Keith pretended he didn't see, leaving the hallway. It was really _was_ for the best they did this without him.

He got all of three steps before the doors behind him reopened.

“Woah _woah woah._ No.” A hand came to his shoulder and squeezed. Eyes widening, Keith stopped walking. He was too startled to even ask what was going on, _why_ Lance wasn't in there with Allura. And _Shiro._

 _“Come on_ man,” Lance began, imploring and earnest. “If you think I'm just gonna let _you_ think you're number six or some kind of spare junk part after what you did for me then you're wrong!"

“Lance.”

“Don't _Lance_ me, mullet man!” Lance spat back, frustration ebbing through his voice. He prodded a finger in Keith’s chest, eyes narrowed. “You're coming with us in there or we’re not going in there at all.”

“Lance is right. We’re not doing this without you.”

Another hand pressed to Keith’s shoulder then. The gravity was there but lacking its usual pull, more of a hollow echo Keith could barely stand to process. His eyes didn't meet Shiro, instead drifted to the doorway.

“Keith, I agree. We need you in there.” Allura approached, behind her were Hunk and Pidge. All were wearing encouraging smiles. Apparently, none of them had gotten very far without him.

“Now let’s get moving.” Shiro withdrew his hand; it felt heavier. Keith fell into step beside him without having to stay much else. Though that didn't change the fact their steps remained out of time. They were horribly out of sync.

And when the Paladins were ushered into the room, they were met by a sight nobody could've predicted which set _everything_ out of sync.

It changed everything.

**_♞_ **

At the end of the table, sat a lean Galra swathed in sharpness and authority. Long white hair, bright yellow eyes. It just had to be Prince Lotor. He was wearing an intrigued smile, chin resting on his hands. Keith was the first to draw his sword, charging forwards.  _Lotor, it was really him he was really here._

“There will be no violence here!” a Tukarian warned, brandishing a weapon that seemed to spark with electricity.

“Keith, you mustn’t!” Allura said, already moving forwards.

“He's right there!”

“May we be- just…” holding up a hand to the enraged Tukarians, Lance laughed nervously. “Excuse us for a second!”

Hauling Keith out by the collar of his armour, Lance slammed the doors shut behind him. The doors where the rest of the team were stuck behind. _With Lotor._ Pupils became slits, Keith took a step. Lance held out a hand, pressing firmly into Keith’s chest to hold him back. Furious, Keith moved away. He wasn't sure if Lance was _intentionally_ being patronising or not, blocking the door with nothing but his bare hands.

“What are you doing?” he asked, tension snapping inside because _Lotor was in there._

“Me? What are _you_ doing?!” Lance hissed. “You're not the only one angry right now, Keith. We all want Lotor gone.”

Eyebrows drawn tightly together, Keith glared.

“Then _how_ can you be so calm whilst he's in there?!”

“Because we have to be, as Paladins.” Glancing between the door and Keith, Lance lowered his voice. “Allura is barely holding this meeting together. We have to help her. Even if you sit in the corner brooding the entire time it’ll look better than us leaving the room again.” Pause. Lance turned to the door. “Think you can be emo inside for a bit longer?”

“Fine.” Keith didn't like it, but maybe this meeting would bring to light new information about Lotor. The Altean ears had definitely been unexpected.

The pair of them entered the room to dreadful telling silence. Lotor looked amused, eyes lingering on Keith as he took a seat gruffly.

Edax looked between them carefully.

“You are enemies?” she asked.

The paladins gasped, exchanging baffled looks. Shiro blinked slowly.

“You don't… know who he is?”

Darosa took another look at Lotor, no visible indication she knew his heritage.

“As members of the ISC,” she began. “We block out all news from the outside universe. The Galra Empire is news to us today, as is the fall of Altea.”

“My people worked with you once before.” Allura attempted to remain neutral at the mention of her homeworld. She was just short of succeeding.

“As have the Galra,” Lotor offered with a little more discretion. Underplayed - yet not overlooked. He held the strings of their attention between his fingers, tugging with keen precision at the right times. It was a dangerous kind of genius, calculated and understated. Cunning yet palpable in a way you could never truly prove.

“All that is in the past.” Edax clasped her hands together, the lighting dimming to a more relaxed mood with the gesture. “What we do now depends on what you do now.”

“There will be a truce test tomorrow.” Geraude reached for a glass on the table that wasn't there. Until it _was_ , materialising straight into his hand.

“It will prove to the council which of you is really willing to form this alliance.”

“But for now, we eat!” Edax chimed brightly.

Across the table, luxurious trays of food and drink appeared in abundance at her command. Pidge was in open awe of the Tukarian technology. Hunk was in open awe of the alien cuisine.

Keith was in open _disgust_ of how Prince Lotor had the audacity to sit there and look so blissfully ignorant of everything he was responsible for, everything he _represented._ The Galra Empire. The son of Zarkon. Fist clenched beneath the table, Keith couldn't turn away for second. Not with Lotor so close. It was too much of a risk.

And then their eyes met slowly across the table.

Holding up a glass, Lotor gestured to him. There was something unspeakably unsettling about that. It seemed careless. But that was only because Lotor had meticulously _designed_ it that way. Keith held the gaze as the cup went to Lotor’s lips. Out of principle, he refused to mimic a gesture meant to symbolise peace.

This wasn't peace.

This was war. Stalemate. There was no real truce here, only an illusion that could shatter at any second. Keith had dealt with illusions before, seen them manifest in the desert sun and heard them talking in the corners of his room. All Keith could do was look this illusion in the eye and acknowledge it directly, _defiantly._

Behind the glass, Lotor was smirking.

♞

“It’s so nice we can sit like this Princess, don’t you think?” Lotor cooed, taking a sip of his drink.

Keith tensed beside Allura, hand already gripping the knife tucked beneath the table. No weapons had been the agreement for the feast. But Keith was always prepared, _couldn’t_ sit here and not be. It was ridiculous, the way Lotor was blatantly taunting Allura. A paladin of Voltron, a fierce and _fervent_ diplomat, a revered member of the team.

“What’s wrong? Are you not enjoying my company?”

Deliberately, Lotor coaxed her into this uncomfortable discussion. The Tukarians were watching, clearly wanting to assess the relationship between the two factions.

“That has yet to be determined,” Allura said in response, clipped and yet somehow still respectable. “But I honour the truce regardless.”

Setting down the glass, Lotor’s eyes gleamed in delight. The fork in Allura’s hand shook with the force of tremors she was struggling to contain. Keith couldn’t stand to watch another second of her private struggle. This wasn’t his kind of scene, his kind of battle. 

Keith dealt in action, in the _moment._ He wasn’t accustomed to the whims of smalltalk, or the deceptive games that were packed into sentences.

Diplomacy proved but one thing to Keith: nobody said what they meant. They paraded around in false pretences and hidden agendas. It was all a ploy, wicked games and tactical moves on a chess board nobody could _even see_. Pointless. Self-serving. Entitled. 

If people just said what they meant, _acted_ how they felt, it would be better for everyone here.

“My name is Edax,” an increasingly familiar voice said from opposite Keith.

It took a moment for Keith to realise she was speaking to him, perhaps the only paladin she had yet to talk to. Blinking in surprise, he tried to shed the unease and respond. But he could _feel_ Lotor’s gaze locked onto him, assessing his every move.

Even the ones he hadn’t made yet.

“That’s a nice name,” Keith managed, much to the bemusement of the surrounding Tukarians.

Even if he _already knew her name and this smalltalk was ridiculous,_ he would give this diplomacy thing at least one shot in the presence of the one friendly face here with no real agenda.

“Is it not customary to exchange names where you are from?” Edax asked.

“I wonder. And where is it you are from?” Lotor leaned over the table, interest piqued.

“Earth.” Keith held his ground, jaw clenched.

“Really?” Lotor sounded openly fascinated and slightly amused. He hummed, swirling the liquid in his glass casually. But it wasn’t casual at all. None of this was _casual._ That was the problem. “Keith, was it?”

Just as Keith already knew Edax’s name, Lotor must have heard Keith’s from before. He was clearly playing tricks, trying to provoke him. Nodding, Keith went back to staring at his empty plate. It was all he could do. Lance’s voice caught his attention, close to Acxa. Great. _Flirting_ with the enemy.

“You’re kinda pretty.”

Acxa quirked an eyebrow, immediately losing interest in the conversation. If it were any other situation, Keith might’ve laughed. Back in the Weblum, Acxa had fought alongside him. She had _also_ trained her gun on him the second he lowered his guard. Their teamwork had only been temporary, for the purpose of collecting Scaultrite. For Lotor. Her eyes swept over to Keith, curious yet guarded.

“Don’t mind her,” Ezor cut in, batting her eyes at Lance playfully. “ _I_ think you’re kinda cute.”

Attention fell back to Lance, who smiled a little lopsidedly. Keith couldn’t tell if the words were sincere or making fun of Lance, and it bothered him. A lot. The way Lotor and his team were _toying_ with them all. Plus the last thing they needed was another _Nyma_ incident. But honestly, this was going to have to be Lance’s own problem.

The priority was sat a few seats away, asking obvious questions and feigning propriety.

Further down the table, Hunk was in a heated discussion with the bulkier general, Zethrid. From where he sat, Keith had no idea what they were talking about. Though judging by the way they were eyeing each other’s plates, it had something to do with the cuisine. Or something. Focus was scattered, stretched in so many places at once. Nothing was sticking. 

A cat that belonged to another one of the generals had sprawled lazily across the table. Holding out a straw, Pidge beckoned the cat closer. Whilst Keith didn’t had a problem with cats, he _definitely_ had a problem with this one. Something about its sharp gaze felt horribly off. _Knowing._

Dangerous.

“Don’t touch it, Pidge!” he said instinctively as her hand reached out. Silence broke over the table. He’d called out louder than intended. Steeling himself in the spotlight, Keith continued. “You don’t know what they might’ve done to it.”

“A cat.” Lotor sounded incredulous yet amused, waiting for more details.

Instead, it was Shiro who spoke. The fork in his hand was set down with a soft thud.

“What is _with_ you, Keith? Why can’t you just enjoy the meal and accept this truce.”

“Because it’s _not_ a truce.”

 _And you’re not Shiro - are you?_ Yet the more that thought came to mind, the more uncertain Keith was - the more _despairing._ If this wasn’t Shiro, if he was right, then he’d failed Shiro. Somewhere out there Shiro was still lost, still suffering all because Keith’s desperation to have him back momentarily clouded his own judgement.

And if this _was_ Shiro, if Keith was wrong… then having doubts in the first place about the monumental anchor in his life was awful. _This was Shiro -_ maybe. Pushing the inner turmoil to the side, Keith clenched a fist. They couldn’t do this, _not now._ The entire room was watching. Lotor included.

“Sharing food means nothing.”

“Uh, _wrong,”_ Hunk interjected. “Food can be a symbol of hope and unity. It’s a shared experience and an offering of peace.”

Gaze settling on the feast, Keith scowled. None of this felt sincere or genuine to him. All of this was wrong.

“Then by eating it, we’re spitting in the face of real peace.”

Darosa slammed her glass down at that, eyes narrowing. A few of the guards around the table stepped forwards at her visible tension.

“You _dare_ decline our warm reception?”

Warm wasn’t the word Keith would use. But before he could say anything, Shiro was there holding his hands up. Yeah. As if he hadn’t been the catalyst to Keith’s unravelling.

“No. We’re very grateful for your hospitality. He doesn’t know what he’s saying. Keith is just a little tired.”

Keith didn’t know what was _more_ insulting, Shiro speaking for him like he was some kid or the fact that nothing but _lies_ had been uttered by everyone in this room - including his own team. Surely everyone had to know this feast was too good to be true.

“I know what I’m saying,” he snapped because yes he could speak for himself. And he would. Finally, the words burning in his mouth were too hot to contain. Keith spat them out viciously.

“I'm not gonna sit here and eat when he's over there.”

Lotor raised an eyebrow, lips twisting with a faint smirk that merely led Keith further onto his furious road of oblivion. It was obvious, Lotor knew _exactly_ what he was doing. He was  _enjoying_ it. 

“You gotta eat, man.” Lance frowned, having worked his way back to his seat beside Keith. Well. That was something at least.

“I’ll pass.”

“And what about the rest of you?” Garoude stood, Darosa at his side with the same outrage. “Do you too _pass_ on our tradition?”

Realisation hit too late.

“Keith means no disrespect.” Allura quickly scrambled to her feet to try and pacify the Tukarians. “I sincerely apologise on his behalf.”

“Why don't you get some rest, Keith. You've overworked yourself and it's my fault. I pushed you too far,” Shiro said softly. But it was too loud, hurt to hear. And the softness was misplaced.

Turning to Shiro, Keith frowned. Despite talking to him, it was evidently for show. To make an _example of him,_ or something. Maybe. Keith wasn't sure of anything besides the fact Lotor looked entertained. None of this was helping. 

Lotor was _winning._

“He may be excused.” Darosa sat back down, pouring more liquid into her glass. In clumsy, awkward bursts, conversation returned to the hall. All of it was set against the backdrop of Keith leaving the room.

Allura was plunged deep into discussion with Darosa, offering an extended apology and whatever attempts at appeasement she could. Observing the scene with interest, Lotor hummed.

“It seems we’ve been provided with not only dinner, but quite a show.”

“Should I follow?” Acxa asked discreetly, leaning a little towards Lotor but acutely aware of ensuring personal space.

“Yeah,” Ezor chipped in with a frown. “That angry earthling may cause trouble for us.”

Lotor and Acxa caught eyes, something passing between them. Fingers steepled, Lotor stared intently at the door.

“He's no earthling. And he's no threat.”

Pause. Lips twitched.

“To us.”

**_♞_ **

“The feast is over then.” Keith didn't have to look to see who was there as the door opened. The presence was familiar, recognisable in a way that continued to be unexpected. Lance really was full of so many surprises.

“Uh, yeah.” Stepping into the room, Lance shuffled towards the bed. He seemed unsure of himself, unsure where to place himself. “It was actually pretty fun.”

 _Fun._ That had Keith bolting up from the bed. Lance was startled by the sudden movement, eyes wide. Unsure. Always so unsure of so much. A good leader could've helped with that. All Keith had ever done was fuel it. Maybe. He was unsure, too.

“Lotor is the enemy, Lance!” Keith spat, as if Lotor himself were here. “He wanted us to lower our guard. Can't you see that?”

“Oh,” A bitter laugh. “I see a lot.”

Lance's words sounded _loaded,_ packed with intent that was hard to interpret. Without any direction, Keith went the only way he could: forwards with force.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” He asked, curiosity getting the better of him. Granted Lance was observant. But the way he was talking was almost bordering exasperation, like this had plagued him for a while. Another thing he was unsure about.

“Shiro excused you from the feast. He pulled rank on you.”

Well. It looked like they were doing this.

“What the _quiznak_ is going on with you two?"

“Right to it, then.”

Keith didn’t bother to hide _his_ exasperation with Lance being here and bringing up stuff like that _._ He’d had his fair share of the team’s attempts at being insightful today. _Sulking. Trying to be our leader._ Words were things Keith endeavoured to rebuff and ignore. These words, however, sunk in. They gnawed into his skin, clawing deeper into everything he strived to preserve in himself.

The offerings of open conversation and honesty were swiftly coming to a close. Keith would much rather meticulously pick apart what he’d seen in the hall, try to anticipate Lotor’s next move. Alone, if it came to that.

"Is it the new haircut you hate or the new outfit?”

“Lance. _Be serious.”_

“I'm being serious, Keith! Something is _seriously_ up and giving me the heebie-geebies! You two have been bickering more than you and I used to.”

It was true.

“What's the big idea?” Keith snapped. “You just gonna keep barging in on me each time you think there’s a problem?”

“If it's the only way I can get you to listen, then yeah.”

“How about _you_ listen? I don't want to talk about it.”

“Oh so there _is_ something to talk about, then?” Lance probed, never missing a beat. Pause. “Keith?”

Sitting down on the bed, Keith raked a hand through his hair. He _hated this_ , hated Lance seeing him like this. _Anyone_ seeing him like this. He needed to stay behind closed doors, wanted to. Just for a few moments.

“You can't rely on Shiro for everything, man.” The bed dipped beside Keith. “Especially if it's about Shiro.”

“How do you _know_ it's about Shiro?” Keith asked.

A laugh escaped Lance’s lips, a little hopeless and amused. But the amusement was dulled and more out of reflex. Not heartfelt.

“Isn't it always?” There was softness there, something Keith couldn't quite catch. For reasons unspoken, he felt guilty. Keith had drawn out such palpable misery from Lance.

“We need to focus on how we’re gonna stop Lotor tomorrow,” Keith said, deliberately putting an end to their current conversation. Although seeming reluctant to, Lance took the bait with a sigh.

“This whole thing is baloney. But we need this alliance. We can't let Lotor win.”

Leaping off the bed, Keith passionately agreed.

“That is _exactly_ why we-”

“-Can't be rash and jump ahead,” Lance finished for him.

Fury flaring in his veins, Keith outstretched his hands. His sharp gaze pierced through Lance.

“Look. Either you're with me, or you're not.”

 _Please be with me._ Shaking his head, Lance held his ground just as well.

“Whatever you're planning to do tomorrow, I won't let you.”

That had Keith pacing away, back turned to Lance.

“So you're not with me.”

“No. I'm not,” Lance confirmed. “Not on this.”

The tightness in Keith’s chest grew, making it harder to catch his breath. It hurt. 

“ _Fine.”_ Walking to the door, he stood by it. The intentions were clear, cut from a jagged shards of composure.

“Keith.”

The door opened at Keith’s request.

“See you in the morning, Lance.”

He didn't wait to see Lance leave before summoning his bayard and diving into a parry. Whatever tomorrow would bring, he had to be ready.

The more prepared he was for Lotor, the better.

**♞**

The sun rose to clear skies the next morning, but Keith was clouded by so many things. He had watched the rays peak over the horizon with bated breath, turning the marmora blade over in his hands. Sleep had been impossible, last night replaying over and over in his head. What had been said, what _hadn’t -_ what was coming.

Now he stood with the paladins quietly, outside the same room Shiro had _excused him from_ the night before. Arms folded, Keith pursed his lips. They hadn’t spoken since then, it was offsetting to not have resolution. He could feel Shiro’s eyes on him, but no words were offered. That said enough, said everything he didn’t want to hear.

Perhaps no words were better. A half-haphazard apology, or simply scolding Keith further, was unwelcomed.

The doors opened, to a room that couldn’t be where they had the feast. Only it _was._ Presumably with the Tukarian technology, it had completely been transformed. Large tables and fanciful decorations were discarded in favour of an empty, vast white room. In the centre was a large archaic chest where Darosa stood, with Garoude and the other council members behind.

Uncharacteristically, Edax was still besides the chest, barely showing any signs of expression.

Guards lined up the sides of the room, standing at ease but making their presence known well enough. Lotor and his generals flocked inside, far too close for Keith’s liking. As Lotor walked past him, their shoulders brushed. It felt deliberate. Keith had to summon every ounce of restraint not to react the way Lotor wanted him to. Or at least how he _thought_ Lotor wanted him to.

Soon. Soon he'd strike back. 

They were all beckoned forwards, the chest opening to reveal intricate silver headbands.

“The truce test is designed for one purpose only,” Darosa began, reaching into the chest. “To see the intentions of all parties without having intentions of our own.”

Edax passed the headsets around. It looked a little like the mind-melding gear from the castle.

“With these, we will all glimpse into each other. The link is not to be used for tactical means or hidden agendas. We want allies who can be trusted, and those who can honour a truce even when it may not be wholly deserved.” Pause. “In the face of temptation, what will you choose?”

Allura was the first to put the headset on, though with a little reluctance. It adorned her head like a crown, accentuating her eyes. The others followed swiftly - everyone besides Keith. He frowned at the headset in his hands. This was a test of a truce that wasn’t even real. The delusions of diplomacy. Putting this headset on would absolve none of the problems. But perhaps it was the opening they needed.

The second Lotor wore his own headset, Keith did too as retaliation. That seemed to interest the Galra Prince. His head tipped up a fraction, amusement laced into his eyes that couldn’t quite be traced across thin lips.

“We will join a circle,” Garoude instructed, the council making up the first curve.

Lotor’s generals and team Voltron moved into place. Directly opposite Keith, stood Lotor. It felt intentional. Perhaps. Either way, Keith knew what he had to do. They had one shot at this, to get this right. Throwing it away would cost everything.

“The link will begin!” Edax chimed, perking up a little out of excitement. She was fiddling with a few buttons on the chest. “Close your eyes, and open your mind.”

Eyes pressed shut, Keith didn’t waste a second. Instantly, he searched for Lotor in the link. But first, he had to wade through his team. He felt Hunk’s warmth, Lance and his fluid encompassing presence, Pidge’s inquisitive spark, Allura’s firm and powerful aura. Slipping past Shiro was hard. Because now they were in a mindmeld, Keith could _feel it:_ he staggering difference between Shiro and the person stood here claiming to be him. His presence felt hollow, full of substance that was put there. The urge to reach out and _look deeper_ was agonising to ignore.

Then a sharp, overpowering aura bit into the corner of Keith’s focus.

Lotor.

The fact Lotor had been so close to Shiro’s mind unnerved Keith _more_ than what he’d glimpsed on the outskirts. Honing in his determination, Keith tugged at the other paladins insistently. If they went together into Lotor’s mind, they could definitely extract all the information they needed.

There was no response.

Allura nudged with her mind disapprovingly. Shiro pulled further away. _Then you’ve chosen to be alone._ Keith gave another push, inching closer to Lotor’s mind. He could _feel_ they were so close. Pidge retreated, Hunk dropped out too. Lance didn’t pull away. Instead, he was pushing too - only _against_ Keith. _Either you’re with me or you’re not._ Their minds grappled, causing disruption to the link.

Fire and ice. Waves crashing into fire. _Follow me, follow me, follow me._ Keith didn’t stop. Even when submerged by pleads to pull back. He persisted, ploughing through whatever resistance came his way and pushing further. Fire set ablaze his path. The sheer force of will was explosive in a way he couldn’t stop. Not now. Too close.

Lance finally yielded, unable to hold Keith back. And there was nothing left to stand in his way. Just Lotor.

With every ounce of strength he had, Keith channeled determination into his mind, into _getting to Lotor._ It was all happening _too quickly._ He felt the walls and hammered harder into them. Lotor prodded back, though it was minimal. Continuing his attack, Keith surged forwards. One final shove and he’d make it in.

Hands came to his shoulders suddenly. No. _Stop._ His eyes burst open to chaos. Everything was moving _too fast_ yet paradoxically too slow against the moment. Blood pumped through his veins rapidly, heart thudding in his chest. _Closer._

Lotor was there.

He was _right there._

The Tukarians had removed their helmets, staring at Keith in open shock. It took Keith a second to process it was Shiro holding him back.

 _But was it Shiro,_ was it?

Lotor remained the epitome of calm. His eyes were closed, still focusing on the mindmeld that was falling into ruins around them. As Keith barged past the final wall, he was greeted by a single image that had the final shreds of his composure splintering violently. Lotor opened his eyes, then. Their eyes met.

And that was _it._

Tearing himself forcefully from Shiro’s grasp, eyes wide and frantic, Keith gasped for air. Lost to the flames pooling in his gut, consumed by what was flashing behind his eyelids after each blink. It couldn’t be right. _No. No._ Piercing and unsettling, the image etched into his mind.

Grey eyes that were _unmistakable._

An expression so _unmistakable._

“Keith,” Shiro said urgently, with something close to concern but _not quite._ Because this wasn’t quite Shiro. Couldn’t be. _How could this be-_

-Jolting backwards, Keith hitched a breath. The mental exertion of breaking into Lotor’s mind had rendered him speechless. As had the single image haunting him, shackling him to things he didn’t ever want to accept.

“That wasn’t what it seemed,” Allura desperately pleaded to the Tukarians who stood impassive and silent. She sounded panicked, faltering under the scrutiny. “Please understand. We come in peace.”

Darosa lifted her chin, pride obviously wounded. An icy stare that should’ve chilled Keith to the bone was cast his way. It had no impact. His hands were already trembling, mapping out the marks under grey unmistakable eyes, tracing the edges of that expression - his entire world concaving.

“I understand,” Darosa carefully stated. “I understand that you make excuses for your team. All the while, Prince Lotor did not once attempt an attack. He and his generals honoured the truce. Team Voltron did not.”

That drew Keith back. _Shoot._ The gravity of what exactly he’d done slowly set in. _Voltron._ He’d compromised not just the team, the universe.

No. He’d done this _for_ Volton. It was all for Voltron. _All in._ Still, he couldn’t shake the irrepressible fear _._ He hadn’t seen enough in Lotor’s head. And there he was, standing there tauntingly. Keith had to try again. He had to see more, know more.  _They needed to know, he needed to know God he needed answers-_

“ _Keith -_ that’s enough!” Shiro snapped, snatching the headset off Keith’s head and firmly severing the final connection Keith had to the _truth,_ to Lotor. The action made it clear enough to the Tukarians, who glared at Keith. Removing the headset with a vacant, _bored_ expression, Lotor turned to Darosa.

“It would appear we have a common enemy amongst us,” he began. “Those who would exploit the generosity of your hospitality, and breach the terms of the truce.”

“That is still to be determined,” Darosa said coolly. Her eyes moved to the paladins. “However, this does not bode well for the integrity of your _Voltron_.”

The word fell from her lips tainted, tinged by uncertainty and suspicion that hadn’t been there yesterday.

“Voltron wants to bring peace to the Universe. _Please!_ ” Allura clasped her hands together, eyes glassy and full of unshed tears. She looked hopeless, despite her best efforts. Even _Edax_ looked stoic and grave, fumbling with the headsets. Gesturing to the door, Darosa spoke.

“The council must discuss this. You are hereby dismissed.”

**♞**

Keith could practically _feel_ the disarray hurtling his way as he stormed down the hallway. The Paladins weren't far behind, heavy-footed. His heart was racing, palms clammy and fists clenched. What he _saw_ , what Lotor showed him. He couldn’t shake it. It couldn't be real - but it also made _so much sense._ It was everything Keith feared, everything he couldn't face. Especially alone. And right now, he felt as alone as he had been in the desert, chasing mysteries and hunting down answer; searching for _purpose._

“Keith _,”_ Shiro, _not Shiro that wasn’t Shiro,_ said whilst bringing a hand to Keith’s shoulder and twisting him round to face the group. Oh no. He didn't look angry, it was worse. Shiro’s face was contorted in a way that could only house hurt. Keith had done that, put that there. Even if it wasn't Shiro, it was _his face._ His hurt.

Scanning the rest of the team, he found similar expressions. In comparison, Allura was struggling to stifle her fury.

“What you did back there just cost us this entire mission.”

Releasing himself from Shiro’s grip, Keith took a step back. Out of defence, he realised too late. Panic seized him, latching tightly onto the scene. _Oh._ This voice, that face - it was _Shiro._ Even if it wasn't him, it _was the essence of him._ Keith had felt it that night when they talked, _how many times are you gonna have to save me before this is over?_

He saw it now even more, the tinges of things not quite right. There were fundamental pieces missing. But the foundations were strong, near convincing - _had_ convinced him for a second. It ruptured his confidence. _Scared him._

“We had a chance to see what Lotor was planning.”

“No,” Shiro didn't snap, but his voice was laced with tension. “We had a chance to make an alliance. And now because of your actions that may not be possible!”

Keith should've stood down, he should've conceded. He could _feel_ the brewing anguish in his veins, but he also could feel the smouldering inferno. He was made of fire, breathed the smoke further into his lungs. It turned his logic to ash, it charred his perception. His direction was smeared with thick tar - impossible to escape and sticking to every inch of his skin uncomfortably. _He couldn't stop now._

“Do you really think they will?” His voice jumped decibels; Hunk flinched. “After working alone all these years?”

“Yes.” Allura stepped forwards fiercely, the flames of her own fire rising up to meet Keith. “They are worthy allies we cannot afford to lose.”

“Yeah well. It might be a little late for that Allura.” Shiro laughed bitterly, raking a hand through his hair. Keith had never seen him this worked up, this _agitated._ Cold grey eyes swept his way and chilled him to the bone. Colder than Darosa's stare ever could've felt. 

Shiro would never look at him like this, _would he?_

“No thanks to you.”

Shiro wouldn't _talk_ to him like this… would he?

It was detached, yet full of sincere honesty that weathered Keith’s neutral expression. Shiro wasn't always honest with himself, but Keith knew Shiro. He _knew_ Shiro felt he owed everyone else their honesty. Just like how Keith strived to provide the truth and all the facts. Though right now, he wasn't doing that. Keith was hiding all the splintering fragments of himself away. Even from Shiro - no. _This Shiro._

“I was trying to help the team.”

“You were just trying to help yourself!” Shiro _did_ snap this time. Despite shoulders slumping, Keith held his ground. _You're just scared to do what's right. You're only thinking of yourself, as usual._

“That's not true,” Keith hissed, voice suddenly hushed. The intensity didn't shift an inch. Somehow he sounded more insistent and pressing than before.

“Isn't it?” Shiro raised an eyebrow. “From what I've seen, everything you've done since assuming leadership has been chasing an _obsession_. And that's Lotor.”

“Keith doesn't fight for glory.” Lance spoke out, hands raised slowly. He seemed to be treading with caution both literally and figuratively. For whose sake, it was hard to tell. But Keith was glad to have at least one voice on his side.

“ _Y_ _ou know that,_ Shiro.”

The _real_ Shiro would know that. Or at least, Keith had always thought he would. Mind worked back to the trial. _Shiro, I promise! You know me!_ Keith bit his lip, unable to stop the turbulence rocking him treacherously towards the edge of his undoing. _Maybe Shiro didn't know._ Maybe Keith had been wrong, again.

“Keith fights for the universe, he always has. We've seen him fight for what he believes in. And that's us! That's - he believes in Voltron.”

Lance's voice washed over him in waves. Calming and coaxing, a new tide he could pull himself into. Each word grew closer to untangling the mesh of knotted stress in between his eyebrows and locked shoulders. Eyes were drawn to Lance, a momentary respite in the storm. A small smile tripped clumsily over Lance’s face, one Keith considered returning until he figured out what it meant.

“But having said that-”

It was an apology, lined with sympathy. The waves no longer were welcoming, they crashed into Keith with more force than expected.

“Keith still made a big mistake and at this rate we’re all paying for it.”

Bowing his head, Keith stared at the floor. Well. Hearing it from Lance _hurt_. If Shiro had looked _how he looked_ earlier, then he didn't want to see what expression Lance may be wearing. The blue paladin's words stirred up the rest of the group.

“Even if you saw into Lotor’s head that doesn't mean you got the truth,” Hunk started. “Lotor could've just fed you something he wanted you to see! Like fake memories or plans to throw you off.”

“And you would've had to break through the barrier.” Pidge sounded like she was on the cusp of her own limits. “You would've had to-”

“-The science is no longer relevant.” Shiro’s voice shook and the ripples of it _shook_ Keith. It had him snapping his head up, fixing his attention forwards to see if the unravelling was true. And it was.

“Keith broke the terms of the test. He was reckless and made the wrong choice. He failed the team.”

_Failed._

Keith sucked in a sharp breath that did more damage than good. He couldn’t breathe, couldn’t seem to catch the air properly and make it stay. It must've been audible because Lance was suddenly right there.

“Shiro. That's a little harsh.”

“No, Lance. I- I’m with Shiro,” Hunk replied, taking a step towards Shiro. Lance stared in open surprise at his friend.

“What? It’s true! Just because you're friends with Keith now doesn't mean you should defend all his decisions.”

“I'm not defending him.”

“Then what are you doing, Lance. What is - what is this? Because this looks like you're defending him.” Hunk spoke fast and clipped, like he did when patience had left his side.

“I'm trying to stop this situation getting out of control!”

Keith watched as the team split further down the middle _because of him._ Yellow and blue, best of friends, arguing and tearing themselves apart _tearing the bond they had apart_ because of Keith.

“It's _already_ way, way out of control!” Green now, too. Pidge was by Hunk’s side. “And you're not helping, Lance!”

“I just think we should all _calm down_ and talk about this.”

“Talk about this?” Allura chided, clearly against the idea. “There's nothing _to_ talk about. I regret to say Keith has strayed too far from our course this time.”

Too many voices, too many emotions stewing and being poured into the atmosphere. It was ready to set alight, dangerous sparks flying. Lance seemed to be the only one trying to reign it back in. _Trying._

“I didn't stray,” Keith said firmly, because he hadn't. He didn't appreciate _this time_ either. Did they really think he didn't care for the mission, or the team? _Everything_ he had done was for this. He thought Allura knew that. Eyes narrowed, he growled.

“Lotor _is_ our course!”

Shiro responded with just as much vigour.

“No Keith! Lotor is _your_ course! If we can't form alliances then we can't stop Lotor.”

“Guys.” Lance went ignored.

“We could've stopped him today! If you guys just followed me through!”

“Nobody followed you, Keith.” Pidge’s voice was devoid of anything. The words stung, a heavy blow delivered right to his chest. It was true. Nobody had followed him. _Nobody followed him._

“Just because you fly my lion now doesn't mean you're the leader.”

 _They wouldn't follow him._ Shiro’s words seared into his heart. These words were wrong, and they mercilessly tore through him _._

“Tonight proved that.”

They would never follow him. Trust him, understand him. No. _Keith’s the loner. Selfish. Reckless. Failed the team._ Keith grit his teeth, eyes burning in the worst way - the way that betrayed you and revealed everything. Spinning on his heel, he left the room. He couldn't let them see the frustration prickling his eyes, making them wet and blurring his vision.

“Shiro,” he heard Lance say before falling out of earshot.

Nobody would follow him.

That's the _only_ reason he let the hot tears cascade down his face before fiercely wiping them away.

**♞**

“Shiro,” Lance started, in the wake of Keith’s departure. Shiro’s fist was clenched, resting on the top of a chair. Pidge and Hunk had tried to busy themselves with an unfinished project on the table in the common room. But it was clear their heads just weren't in it. Pidge kept glancing back at the door almost longingly.

“Don't think that was easy for me,” Shiro managed, barely. Voice was shaking, as was his hand. Allura came to clasp his shoulder, hoping to offer some support.

“You're being too hard on him,” Lance persisted. “Keith looks up to you. _We all do.”_

“I'm being hard on him because there's no other way to get him to listen. Keith messed up. And I don't know if we can fix it.”

“We’ll find a way, Shiro.” Lance didn't speak like he believed it, he spoke like he _wanted_ to desperately believe it.

“The stakes are high. This isn't a fight we can lose.”

“We can win,” hand on Shiro’s other shoulder, Lance nodded. “But we can't do that unless we’re together.”

With that, he turned to the door and walked.

“Lance, where are you going?” Allura called out.

Glancing over his shoulder, his eyes met Shiro. The man he had idolised, held up as a mighty hero. Now Lance was looking through a different lens, a clearer one.

“To find the black paladin.”

**♞**

“I saw into Lotor’s head,” Keith admitted as Lance stepped into his room. It passed from his lips almost carelessly, something lost amongst the swell of everything in his throbbing head. 

“Woah _what?!”_ Lance gasped, jolting forwards. “You made it through? What did you see?”

Keith shook his head, sitting up slowly.

“Doesn't matter. Shiro's right. I shouldn't have done it. We have no way of knowing if what I saw was even real or - true.”

_It had to be real._

God he didn’t want it to be real. Yet part of him _did,_ part of him yearned for an explanation. _Failed the team. Sulking. Tonight proved that._ Shiro wouldn’t talk to him like that.

Would he?

“It was Shiro, wasn't it.”

Damn Lance and his ability to just _pick up on everything._ Keith barely managed to mask his shock.

“Lance.” It was a warning, eyes cast down and fingers clutching the bedsheets tight. “It doesn't matter.”

“It obviously matters to you. So it matters to me.”

“It's stupid,” Keith spat, the excuse wilting between them rather pathetically. It was evident he was just trying to bide time, steer them away. Off course. _Lotor is our course._

“Well that makes sense,” Lance teased, scooting close enough to bump their shoulders playfully. “I already know you're stupid. And so’s your haircut. Tell me something I _don't_ know.”

Sucking in a breath, Keith squeezed his eyes shut. _Okay._ Okay.

“I don't think our Shiro is the real one.”

There. He said it.

“Keith. Look at me.” Lance went still, pulling back. Bringing his eyes up, Keith met Lance there. It was the most serious and sombre he'd ever seen the blue paladin. “If you're gonna say something as loaded as that then you need proof. You can't just-”

“-I know! _I know_!” Leaping to his feet, Keith strode to the other side of the room agitatedly. “I don't have any, okay? All I know is that something hasn't been right since Shiro came back.”

It hadn’t. No more pretending. Keith had _felt_ something was off. It didn't feel better to voice it. But maybe someone would listen. 

“For you, you mean.”

“...What?”

“It's not been right, for you,” Lance clarified from the bed. “I get it, man. Kind of. A lot has changed. One moment Shiro's gone and you're thrown into being leader and taking the black lion. The next he's back, you don't know where you stand or-”

_No. No._

“-Lance. That's not-”

This was exactly _why_ he didn't want to bring it up. Nobody followed him. Nobody saw him. Nobody _believed_ him. There was already _too much_ going on. Lotor had picked the perfect time to hit the team. Like this, with all this chaos and instability, finding solidarity in just _one thing_ was hard.

“You're looking at everything through a teeny-tiny microscope. And you're too cooped up in your emotions to see it.” Lance stood then, inching closer. Keith hated it felt like he was getting further out of reach. “Keith, buddy. You haven't been thinking with your head since Lotor came into the equation. It's driving you away from all of us.”

Pause. Lance sighed.

“Not just Shiro.”

 _From me._ After all the work they’d put in to move past their rocky start, Keith was shaking the pillars all over again. But it wasn't like he _wanted to._

“Shiro is safe, Keith.” Lance's voice was soothing but he could find no comfort in it. Because the words weren't true.

_Were they?_

“He's fine and he's here. You know him best but we know him too, and we _all_ know he's been through a lot.”

“-The black lion won't fly for him.” Keith cut in, words blunt and to the point.

The black lion had _always_ flown for Shiro. It had picked Shiro from the start, and they’d worked hard together to build their bond. It made no sense for it to reject Shiro now. Not unless it was protecting the team from something.

“Because it _chose you!”_ Lance cried in exasperation. “ _Why_ can't you believe that? Like we believe in you?”

Keith scoffed at that, earning a quizzical look.

“Some belief…”

“You messed up.” Lance clearly took no pleasure pointing it out if the wince was anything to go by. “They're mad, _I’m mad._ It happens. But it doesn't mean they don't believe in you.”

Nobody followed.

Maybe that wasn't entirely true; Lance had followed.

“Come on, Keith.” Lance headed to the door. “We need you so we can figure this palaver out.”

Keith was still for a moment, before falling into step beside Lance. Any other day, he would've called Lance up on _palaver._ But Keith could hardly take a step without faltering. Lance was on his right, shouldering the weight with him. That made it a bit better. Walking back through that door was not going to be easy. But leaders couldn't take the easy route. Leaders had to make whatever choice was best for everyone, no matter what.

The scene they stepped into, however, was alarming. Two Tukarians stood beside Darosa, who was extending a hand to Allura. She took it with a firmly. Keith's heart lurched.

Had they _done it?_ Had Voltron secured the alliance?

“What's going on?” Lance voiced the confusion.

“They’ll talk with us about the alliance,” Allura said with a diplomat’s smile, hope brimming in her eyes. Beside her stood Coran. The fact he’d left his post at the castle was curious.

“They will?” Keith breathed in disbelief.

The smile shattered as Allura turned to him with glassy eyes. That set alarm bells ringing. Something felt off. Horribly so. Keith was missing something big here. The fact the handshake ceased, and all eyes were now locked on him, proved that.

Darosa didn't speak. Instead, her guard stepped forwards to deliver the message. Another sign something was very wrong.

“Without him.”

Keith hitched a breath.

“He needs to go.”

“ _What?”_

Lance took a step forwards, almost protectively. It was then Darosa spoke.

“Your leader broke the terms of accord. We cannot welcome him into this alliance.”

“What does that even mean?” Lance asked everything Keith couldn't begin to voice. “...Guys?”

Darosa lost interest in the conversation, the guard on her right standing to attention.

“You have stronger leaders here amongst you.” The guard gestured to Allura and Shiro. “The council will meet with you tomorrow at dawn.”

Pause. The guard’s high-tech spear pointed in Keith’s direction.

“Bring him, and it is over.”

The Tukarians left the room them, Darosa cast one final disapproving look to Keith. He met her gaze, head held high with a challenge. But it was an effort not the break the impression that he was fine. Because he was _not_ fine.

As the doors closed, Keith knew his fate had been written. He’d written it with his own hands, scrawled it messily across a path he shouldn't have taken.

“Alright.” Allura breathed a sigh of relief, diplomat face off and replaced with exhaustion. “We have one shot at this. If we don't win this alliance tomorrow, Lotor gets his armoury and the universe will be forever enslaved.”

“We need those weapons,” Pidge agreed, eyes gleaming. “And their technology is beautiful.”

The normalcy would've been fine in any other situation. But right now it was unsettling. Keith didn't fit into it. This rhythm was set against his own, he couldn't hope to match it. Not like this. Not when the Tukarians had made their demands. _Bring him, and it is over._

“Oh yeah! We could win this thing for good now!” Hunk chipped in with excitement. “I'm gonna bake a cake, a victory cake. It can have-”

 _Without him._ Without him. Without him.

“-What about Keith?” Lance asked, bringing everyone to a standstill. There were flickers of shame and unease. Nobody spoke.

“Shiro?”

“We haven't agreed to anything, Lance.” The smile didn't reach his eyes. It was a diplomat’s smile. It didn't belong there. “Keith isn't going anywhere.”

Keith heard it, the _yet_ that wasn't being said. And it was then he knew what he had to do. He’d known from the second Darosa made the terms.

“Yes I am.”

Shiro stood then. It was the first time he seemed troubled and _that_ troubled Keith. The real Shiro would've fought for him from the start - _wouldn't he?_

“If I'm here, this whole thing is a bust. I have to go.”

“Keith.” Allura looked physically _pained_ , eyes full of unshed tears. But Keith knew Allura. She could make hard choices as could he. It was something he grateful respected in her, the depth of her sacrifice. “If there was some other way…”

Allura understood the paladin way. As did Keith. That didn't mean it was _nice_ , however, to hear the confirmation.

“Are we… are we sure there's not some other way?” Hunk asked, fingers pressing together nervously.

“They made it pretty clear,” Keith supplied because nobody else would. And he wouldn't _let_ anybody else. That wasn't fair. Only he could confront this, shoulder the _crushing weight_ of everything this entailed.

“Where will you go?” Pidge asked quietly. She sounded on the verge of tears herself, eyes big and jaw clenched.

“Keith. You don't have to do this.” Shiro was hurt, but he wasn't frantically trying to stop Keith. That hurt more.

“It's okay,” Keith assured them all. “Guess I made a lot of wrong choices as leader, at least let my last one I make for the team be right.”

“You really _are_ stupid!” Lance spat. “ _None_ of us have been at our best, and you led us just fine in our last battle." Voice softened, cracking in a way that was unpleasant to hear. "You're part of this team. We need you, Keith.”

“See?” Keith laughed, hopeless and fond. “That's why you gotta leave the math to Pidge.”

“We can secure you safe passage to the outer walls, but I’m afraid that's as far as we can assist.” Allura couldn't look in Keith’s direction, struggling to keep herself together.

“I understand.”

Keith did understand. Lance perked up at that, eyes blown wide.

“Allura _wait!_ Do we really need this alliance?”

Shiro spoke up. In _defense._

“If we don't get this alliance-”

Interrupting, Lance held up a hand.

“-No, I know I know I just. Is it _really_ worth losing Keith?”

“Lance.” Keith stepped in before anyone could. Partly for Lance’s sake, partly for his own. He couldn't bear watching the team fight over him again, especially as he had no idea where they really stood on this. The easiest way for everyone, the way that would cause less pain, was to bow out himself.

“I made a choice. The consequences should be on me, nobody else. I-... I have to do this. Voltron can't suffer because of me. You need that alliance.”

The shift from ‘ _we’_ had Allura’s composure faltering.

“Once we've secured an alliance, we _will_ negotiate the means of your return.”

“No,” Keith said firmly, eyes fixed on the Princess. Expression softened, searching Allura’s face. The sorrow he saw had him retreating. It didn’t belong there. “You know it won't be that easy. Besides, Voltron is the most important thing. Putting the universe in jeopardy for _one person_ isn't right.”

Silence fell.

“When I told you to start thinking with your head, this wasn't what I meant,” Lance scoffed humorlessly.

“You really won't change your mind,” Shiro confirmed, realisation setting in across his face.

It was wrong. So much of this picture was wrong.

“It was good while it lasted,” Keith offered, failing to keep the bitter upset out his voice. “This whole… paladin thing.”

Pause.

Goodbye couldn't be said. _Nothing_ he wanted to say could be said. Leaving them with his emotions had caused enough damage. Not just for them. It was better this way, to hold it all back and let it go unsaid. The team needed to focus now more than ever. Distractions weren't welcomed. _He_ wasn't welcomed.

“Keith.” Allura cleared her throat, eyes thrown to the ground.

Oh. Right.

Holding out his bayard, Keith passed it over. Her fingers brushed his palm for a moment and squeezed tightly. Keith swore he felt her nails scrape, as if she was trying to keep him here. Next came the armour. Stripped to his dark undersuit, he lowered his head. It was humiliating.

Something fell round his shoulders, heavier than his usual jacket. Glancing up, Keith found Coran in front of him. The man had been so quiet for the entire exchange, only now making some contribution. His eyes were impossibly sad, as he helped Keith shrug on the royal blue jacket that had always adorned his own shoulders.

Allura brought her hand to her face, stifling a terrible noise.

“On Altea,” Coran said slowly, voice trembling. “The passing of ceremonial robes to another meant respect and reverence.” Fastening the top button, Coran lightly patted it. Something wavered in his eyes.

“It was often passed between father and son.”

This was too much. Keith blinked back his own wretched tears, unable to process the magnitude of the gesture and the silence around them. But for all their sakes, he had to keep it together. Heading to the door, knife sheathed in his belt, Keith said his final words.

“You guys go get that alliance. The universe is counting on you.”

The door closed.

Keith was gone.

**♞**

Keith was seldom one to think of the past, to fixate on it to the point where it consumed every fibre of his being. The present was the only place he existed, where he always had fared much better. Things in the past deserved to stay there. He wasn’t hiding, he was moving _past_ the past.

Right now, however, Keith couldn't help looking back. Not literally though. No. His eyes were set ahead, to a horizon that seemed futile reaching. Empty.

Coran’s jacket was a weight on his shoulders, but not one he wanted to remove. It was a grim reminder. Everything he hadn’t meant to lose his grip on. Everything he had lost. Keith should've listened when it counted. He should've taken a moment to think about just _what_ he was really doing and how it would affect the mission.

But he didn't. And nothing could change the past. Nor would there be any point. Because it would change nothing. Keith committed to every action he made and every word he spoke - even if they were the wrong ones. Even if the wrong one was a choice he would commit to again without hesitation. It had been for Voltron, to _stop Lotor._

Still, Keith wanted to run. He wanted to run back to the team, to try and figure this out. They had figured their way out of things before. Maybe they could again. _Strike a bargain -_ because if he wasn't a paladin then he wasn't _anyone._ Not in the vast expanse of the universe.

He wanted to fight. He wanted to fight against Lotor and stop the madness that had spiralled from his ghastly plans. He wanted to throw himself into everything and _anything_ that came his way.

He wanted someone to follow him.

But nothing was coming his way. It was all over. His time with Voltron, his _home._ Keith was used to being alone, _being the loner_ . That didn't mean he reveled in it, or liked it. It was just how things were, how they’d always been. A routine he was foolish to break, to believe he _could_ break.

Keith had found home in the desert once, in a deserted shack that needed major fixing up. He had found solace in the quiet, the birds and their songs and the sun in the sky on his back. The crisp wind as it sliced past, the rocky cavernous expanse of the horizons. But even that home was lost.

He’d found a home in the middle of space, onboard an ancient castle.

That was lost too.

It was all lost, _he_ was lost.

Keith could survive it, he’d _endure it._ But that wasn’t the point.

So despite everything he wanted to do, everything he _should've_ done and what he still could do - all Keith did was walk. At a slow pace that took him nowhere. With feet dragging and shoulders sagging, he walked. He walked without purpose, without _direction._

This was a situation written into the fabric of his lost armour, etched into the curve of a bayard no longer in his possession.

Keith was _always_ going to end up this way. Alone. A _loner._

Didn't his story always end this way?

The universe gave him Shiro, then took him away time and time again. Left him stranded in the sand. The universe gave him a shot at reaching the stars, then he washed out the Garrison; then the universe actually _took him_ to the stars, only to fight an unending war. The universe gave him a family, a castle that had become a home, _people_ who meant everything.

It all was nothing now, and it was nothing _new._ Just Keith and his knife, the way it had been since he was seven years old.

A flash of silver caught the corner of his eyes. An attack. Without hesitation Keith pulled out the knife. A purple glow extended it into the full blade. Keith spun round. There was the metallic clanging of two weapons colliding. Face to face with his attacker, Keith pushed further into the parry.

“So it's true.” Lotor’s eyes scanned over the Galra blade with interest. “You’re part Galra.”

Pressure suddenly came to Keith’s arm, causing the blade to fall from his hands. Ezor then materialised rather smugly by his side. Attempting to shake her off, Keith grit his teeth. But another one of the generals, the weblum Galra Acxa, held him by the other arm. He was caught in a firm grip that had him stumbling to his knees. Keith shoved back, stuck in an awkward crouch. He attempted to kick, hauling all his upper body strength into the motion.

“Oooh! We may need your help, Zethrid. He's so feisty!” Ezor chanted, delighted by the scene.

“I don't think so.” Acxa took out her gun, pressing the tip to Keith’s forehead.

For all their intensity, Lotor seemed disinterested with the scene unfolding by comparison. His eyes were trained on the blade on the ground. As he caught sight of the symbol, Lotor crouched down.

“This is a luxite blade… a Marmora blade.”

Lotor picked it up with an absent hum. Struggling against the hold of the generals, Keith watched with blazing fury. Acxa idly tapped the trigger, firing up the plasma charger.

“Last warning,” she said, as if the way he looked at Lotor was personally offensive.

Looking up at her, Keith’s lips twitched. It was enough to offset the general and cease the whirring. Perhaps she’d expected him to beg for his life.

“If you were gonna shoot me you would've done it already,” he said, hissing when Ezor gave his arm a tight squeeze. “But you haven't. So that tells me, you want me alive. Or at least,”

Cocking his head in the direction of Lotor, Keith continued.

“He does.”

Lowering her gun, Acxa glared. The agitation creased her eyebrows tightly. Clearly, she didn't particularly enjoy being outwitted. But she also seemed reluctant to show it fully. Either because Keith had saved her life once, or because Lotor was here. Keith wasn't sure which. It probably didn't matter.

Lotor moved closer and said two words Keith could've never predicted.

“Join us.”

“But he’s not like us _!”_ Zethrid began from the sidelines in protest. “He will be of no use to us-”

“-Enough.” Lotor held up a hand, and immediately the rebuttal stopped. Keith realised then, Lotor was running on something far more terrifying than power or domineering control. Lotor had respect, loyalty. People listened to him.

They followed him, and they _wanted_ to follow him.

“Put your trust in us, and we will never let you down.” Lotor lowered his voice, talking directly to Keith and Keith alone. There was sharp intensity in his voice, and patient sincerity. The combination confused Keith, had him completely silenced. To his dismay, it had him _listening._ He wanted to figure out what it meant.

“We're not like them, those people you call your friends.”

“I’ll never trust you,” Keith spat vehemently. That seemed to displease Acxa, who tightened her grip on Keith.

“That's a shame,” Lotor said, and Keith was baffled to find it was genuine. _Somehow,_ it was. “I trust you.”

Keith pointedly tugged his arms, glancing between the two generals holding him in place.

“Doesn't seem that way.”

“Just a precaution.” Lotor stood, waving a hand. “Ezor, Acxa - you can release him.”

Within seconds, the generals let go. Keith scrambled to his feet, shifting backwards out of defence. It didn't take a genius to figure out he was at a disadvantage. Placing distance was wise. Lotor tossed the luxite blade to his feet. Cautious, Keith picked it up.

“I trust you,” Lotor repeated, voice even and expression earnest.

Narrowing his eyes, Keith shifted his stance. Feet set wide, blade ready and in position. 

“...Why?”

“Because nobody else does. You're alone in this universe. But you don't have to be. I see who you really are _what_ you really are. I stand for all those who have been denounced and cast out. I stand for-”

Keith snorted, cutting the righteous speech short. Lotor waited expectantly for a punchline that didn't come. And Keith could see the fury burrowed behind those yellow eyes, anger teeming and barely contained. It was something Keith knew resided in himself, poor suppression of an eruption beneath this veins. _Whatever_ Lotor was planning, it wasn't working so well on Keith. This tactic appeared to work better on others.

“You gonna keep talking, or are we gonna fight?”

Drawing his sword, Lotor stepped forwards. He cast a glance to his generals, eyes sharpening.

“ _Nobody_ interferes.”

The pair circled each other. Neither were prepared to make the first blow. That was, until Lotor gave Keith little choice. He surged forwards, with a speed Keith could barely match. Shit. Lotor was fast. Clang. Swing round. Fierce jab forwards. Quick left. Lotor was already on his right. Their blades struck in a rapid series of parries.

“You're a man of the sword - not of words,” Lotor commented absently, narrowly missing even the most ferocious of Keith’s hits. Narrowly. Keith was learning, assessing his style. He’d catch up. _He had to._

“I can excel in both. How about you?” Lotor dragged his blade slowly across Keith’s, pulling off with a grin. “Can you fight a battle on two fronts?”

Slapping the sword away, Keith dove forwards and delivered his next attack. Their swords clashed. Again. Higher. And again. Lower. And again. Dodge.

“I'll do,” Keith started between grunts, eyes trained on the blade. “ _Whatever the hell I have to_ if it means ending this!”

“Even become an outcast? A traitor to your own team?”

Keith’s pace didn't slow out of hurt it _increased_ and that was the mistake. As he charged, Lotor stepped closer. Fast. Eyes wide. Shoot. Lotor predicted it, predicted _him._ An elbow came to his shoulder, knocking him back with force that ripped a cry from him. It was his scarred shoulder, too. Landing with a thud, Keith scrambled for his blade.

“I'm not a traitor.” He dragged himself to his feet, watching as Lotor circled him.

“Oh my mistake. Only, I couldn't think of any other type of person who would get themselves kicked off team Voltron…”

Keith barred his teeth, mind reeling. Lotor had the chance to cut him down, use his blade. But he didn't. _Lotor wasn't fighting to kill_. Was he even fighting for real?

The thought of being played around with, not being taken seriously angered Keith. This was no joke. People's _lives_ were at stake. He lunged, falling into the rapid rhythm of their swords once more.

“Argh!”

Slash. Near miss. _Harder._

“It's really quite an accomplishment,” Lotor mused, grinning wide and fangs fully on display. “Even my father-”

That had Keith’s attention.

“-I’m _nothing_ like Zarkon!”

“I know. And I'm grateful for that. You're far more interesting than he ever was,” Lotor admitted, twirling round and meeting Keith’s attacks with effortless ease. “But ultimately, you are not in control of yourself. You're still learning.”

The fight changed. Far too abruptly. And Keith had barely any time to react. Lotor grew quicker. His parries offset Keith each time. One second he was in one place. The next he was elsewhere. Too fast. Too much. Keith stumbled. He faltered. Diving out of reach. Barely. A sharp breath, a sharper strike that got him nowhere. Completely on the defensive. Damn. He _couldn't keep up._

Realisation: Lotor hadn't even been _trying_ until now.

The blade was expertly pried from his hands. One final swerve had Keith losing balance. He fell. As he made to stand, the generals closed in.

“I’m not joining you, _ever!”_ He yelled, shakily bringing himself to his feet.

“You even fight like a Galra,” Lotor remarked, dropping the luxite blade by Keith once more. “Most impressive.”

_You fight like a Galra soldier._

“What do you want?” Keith asked, and he hated how the desperation seeped in. He _needed_ to know, he had to see this through.

Ezor gave a thumbs up then, smirking in the way someone would with a private joke. That had Keith uneasy. Something else was going on here, he hadn’t been paying attention to anyone or _anything_ besides Lotor. Acxa nodded, lightly thumping a hand to her chest. A pledge, of sorts. Lotor smiled, seemingly pleased and _proud_ of his team.

“Nothing you can't give us.” Behind Lotor, the sound of a signal being patched came into focus.

Another realisation too late: this entire fight had been a ploy, a means to stall Keith. Lotor _himself_ had acted as a diversion, giving his generals time to do their work behind the scenes. He had given his team responsibilities whilst putting himself on the frontline. Utilising their individual strengths. Parading into the spotlight. Keith hadn't thought twice about challenging him there. 

Lotor hadn't tried to do everything himself.

They followed him.

“Apologies for this, we’re about to have a little chat with team Voltron and I can't have you being all gallantly _defiant.”_ Pause. “Narti!”

A hand came to Keith’s shoulder and suddenly all emotions, _everything_ was gone.

**♞**

“I can't believe he's really gone,” Lance murmured. “I keep expecting to see his stupid awful mullet appear.”

“He’ll be alright.” Shiro sounded calm, but the illusion was broken just by looking at the intensity spread across his face. “Keith is strong.”

It wasn't convincing. Even Shiro didn't seemed entirely convinced of his words, conflicted. He didn't completely believe in them. In fact, Shiro had remained relatively passive as Keith left. He was upset, visibly distressed. But he hadn't protested or tried to talk sense into Keith. He just _let him_ make the choice, riding the waves of the aftermath instead of being the one to reign it in. And that was odd, had Lance for the first time thinking back to Keith's words with more consideration. _I don't think that Shiro is the real Shiro._

Turning to Shiro, Lance frowned. Shiro offered him a small smile, a sad one. It didn't sit on his mouth properly, barely lasting a second. Lance could see the anguish, the _guilt._ Oh. Shiro probably was blaming himself for this, for letting it all get so far.

“You're strong too.” Lance waded the waters carefully, unsure how to step. They’d never done this before.

“Not really,” Shiro replied softly, a helpless laugh crashing over them. He sounded both relieved and troubled by the admission. Relieved because Lance would get it, troubled because it was a weakness.

Suddenly, Keith's words faded away. It was wrong to doubt Shiro like that. He’d been through so much, _suffered_ so much. He himself said none of this was easy. Shiro was-

“-Paladins of Voltron!” Lotor announced through the connection. “I have someone here you may like to hear from.”

“Keith.” Allura sounded fretful and furious all at once. She charged forwards, to no avail. “Let him go!”

“You really think I'd stoop low enough to take hostages?” Lotor chided, the grin evident in his tone. The insinuation rang between the team, unnerving them.

“No. He wouldn't,” Pidge said. “Keith wanted to stop you. He’d _never_ join you!”

Something happened next that shook the Paladins into stunned and broken silence. It was Keith’s voice.

“I didn't understand Lotor back then,” he said. “But I do now. He's not like Zarkon, and - he wants to help the universe. We shouldn't be fighting him anymore. If we join him we can put an end to all of this.”

Shiro bowed his head.

“It's over paladins,” Lotor sneered, the victory palpable in his voice. With that, the connection closed.

“No!” Allura yelled. “Pidge, can you trace the signal?”

“They're blocking it, I can't do _anything._ ”

“Are you absolutely sure?”

“It’s all gone! I’m sorry, Allura. _"_

“Keith would never betray us like this.” Lance said firmly. “Something’s not right.”

He looked to Shiro who said nothing. His head was still bowed low, expression concealed.

“But he is part Galra,” Hunk began, voice timid and unsure. “Lotor is Galra too. What if - what if he really chose this?”

“Hunk! Do you really think that? Come on, this is _Keith!”_

“ _Keith_ who left us, Lance. You heard his voice too.” Hunk replied tensely.

“He only left because we didn't fight for him.”

“No, Lance. Look. I'm not saying that I _like_ any of this. I'm just thinking like a paladin.”

Pidge lifted her head at that. A small dismal laugh turned into something bitter. That caught everyone’s attention.

“Ha. You sound just like him.”

Hunk slumped into his seat, hands coming up to his face. He _did_ sound like Keith.

“What was it you said to him that time?” Pidge titled her head, calculatingly. It was clear she knew _exactly_ what it was, but was deliberately feigning this for extra impact. “Something like: _that's cold even for you_.”

“Like you're any better. You called him _the loner_ to his face _,”_ Lance retorted in defence of Hunk.

His words were assured but he sure didn't look it, dread soaking up into his expression. He’d called Keith names too. It had been in jealousy _and_ later jest. But it had still happened. Ducking his head, Lance frowned. He’d started this dispute, for Keith. And it was getting them nowhere. The trio were taking no prisoners, shackled to their own fury and guilt. Guilt worked that way, sometimes it was easier to point fingers at everyone else and pass the blame.  

“You really think because you made up with Keith it excuses everything _you_ did? If we’re tallying points for the person who hurt Keith the most then you're obviously the winner!” Pidge said accusingly, anger flared and no longer holding back. “You only gave him a chance outside of that ridiculous rivalry when you got the red lion.”

“That's not true!” Lance threw his arms out.

“Stop it! Both of you, stop!” Hunk stood up, fists balled and lips trembling. “Sometimes the truth is hard and it - it _hurts_. But we can't stand here and yell at each other like this. We all messed up. Not just Keith. We’re all responsible and-”

Anger fizzled out to something more dejected and _ashamed._ They were all responsible. 

“Oh… _Keith.”_

“You would've fought for me,” Lance said quietly, eyes cast down. “If it were me, you wouldn't have let me leave.”

Hunk sniffled, a pitiful sound that had Lance drawing him into an instant hug. Pidge was there in a heartbeat, spewing messy apologies into Lance’s armour.

“I'm sorry,” Lance offered, patting Hunk on the back consolingly. He draped an arm over Pidge. “Ah gees… you losers are gonna make _me_ cry.”

“But you're right!” Hunk bawled. “I would never let you do anything stupid like that. So why did we let Keith? Why didn't we help him?”

“Keith made his own choice,” Shiro said slowly and without real purpose besides stating the truth. His eyes were vacant, his face neutral and impossible to read. It was the first thing he had said since the argument, since they’d heard _Keith_ defending Lotor.

“Lotor clearly wants to distract us.”

“Then we need to get ready,” Allura said, lifting her head with whatever pride she had left. It was depleted, but just enough to keep her voice even. She had remained suspiciously quiet for the whole dispute, also. The small marks of moisture on her cheeks made clear why. Nobody commented.

“Tomorrow is our last chance at getting this alliance. Nothing about our journey as paladins has been easy, but we _must_ keep going. For the universe,” Allura averted her gaze, voice softening.

“And Keith.”

**♞**

Keith woke to a pounding headache and a silhouette towering over him. A few small blinks brought Lotor into focus. Rising to his feet, Keith snarled. But his head was throbbing, sharp jagged pain pulsating through his skull.

“What - what did you do to me?” He asked weakly, rubbing the corner of his forehead. It didn’t let up, no amount of pressure was helping. Lotor said nothing, dropping a pile of armour by his feet.

“Put the armour on,” Lotor instructed.

Picking up the chest plate, revealing the symbol of Lotor’s generals, Keith immediately tossed it aside. Like hell would he.

“Never.”

His response didn't provoke Lotor. In fact, it almost was anticipated. Stepping forwards, Lotor traced a hand over the discarded armour.

“I know you're wondering… wondering if it's true. What you saw in the meeting. And it is.”

Keith clenched a fist, biting down on his lip. _No._ He couldn't yield, couldn't give Lotor he satisfaction of-

“-I know where your Shiro is.”

That was it, the pressure point. Lotor _knew._ He pushed right into the nexus of the unstable storm thrumming inside and _kept pushing_.

“Tell me!” Keith implored, stepping forwards with unmasked urgency. He had to yield, it was _Shiro._

“Put the armour on, then we’ll talk.”

“Is he safe?” Keith prompted, to which Lotor rolled his eyes.

“ _Armour_.”

In a few swift moments, the armour was on. It was surprisingly light, fitting Keith better than expected. There was plenty of movement flexibility, durability. It wasn't clunky like the Galra drones, far more sophisticated. Catching Lotor’s gleaming eyes, Keith raised his head firmly. On _this,_ he wouldn’t yield. Not for Shiro.

“I asked you a question.”

“My…” Lotor breathed, circling Keith slowly to inspect the armour. “You look magnificent.”

Frustrated, Keith spun and reached for his knife. His hands met nothing but armour. His knife wasn’t there.

“You’re not looking for this, are you?”

Lotor held the blade up tauntingly, taking a step back to appraise his latest recruit. Eyes flitting from the knife to yellow eyes, Keith levelled his gaze.

“ _Where’s Shiro.”_

“Precisely where he needs to be.”

The answer was blasé, so _vague._ Mere scraps of information were being tossed Keith’s way. But to Keith, these pieces were gold worth treasuring. He clung to them tightly. He’d found Shiro on less before, speculations and _sheer twists_ of something better and more assured than what some would call purely luck. Keith wasn't lucky. Not remotely. But he could find Shiro again. _Would_ do it all again, whatever he had to.

They were tethered together. Not even the universe could completely undo the knot securing the threads of their fate. In the face of all the countless forces sent to destroy them, sever the ties, they were frayed at the most. Endurance was something Keith understood explicitly. Shiro knew how to survive. So it didn’t matter how far the thread stretched, how much they were constantly thrown into, because it was there. Always. Unshakeable, unmistakeable. 

Still, that didn’t stop Lotor’s chuckle churning apprehension in his gut. Not knowing was overwhelming. Not having the information. He’d see grey eyes, _that expression._ Keith had to know more about the image plaguing his mind.

“What have you done?”

Lotor started walking down the hallway, Keith followed after him frantically.

“Why do you assume what harm comes to the champion is my doing?”

_Champion._

“His name is Shiro,” Keith corrected fiercely, eyes narrowed. Not that Lotor _deserved_ to even speak that name. It fell off his tongue all wrong, marring everything Shiro was and everything he _still was._

“That is one of his names, I suppose.”

The thought of Shiro _out there_ in trouble, alone and hurt widened the rifts in his heart. It splintered every hope, accentuating every fear. This conversation wasn’t getting him anywhere, or Shiro.

“ _Please,_ just-....” Gasping for a breath, Keith set aside his pride. For Shiro, he would do whatever it took. If that meant cutting his way through a hundred Galra ships or more, so be it. If that meant falling to his knees and _begging, so be it. “_ Is he alive?”

Lotor stretched the silence deliberately, dangling Keith by a thread. All he had to do was tug, and Keith would follow - he _had_ already been following. Abruptly, Lotor came to a halt, eyes sweeping over Keith. The twinkle in his eyes revealed he _knew._ He had Keith in the palm of his hands, _at his mercy_.

And Keith couldn't hide it, couldn't even _try_ to hide it. Everything was open, _too open._ This concerned Shiro’s safety, nothing mattered more than that. Whatever Lotor was searching for, he didn’t seem to find it in Keith’s face. Turning his attention away, he frowned. Almost with bitter disappointment.

“He's alive,” Lotor confirmed.

Keith slumped against the wall, catching his breath. _Thank god._ Shiro was alive. He was out there.

“If you want to see him again, you need to follow my lead."

Opening the door ahead, Lotor gestured. It was then Keith realised where they were. They were  in the main archway, connecting the passage that led to the meeting room. _Oh._ The team were going to be walking along here, _his friends_. Glancing down at his armour, Keith pursed his lips. It suddenly felt tighter on his chest, heavy. The other generals arrived, standing on either side of him.

“Your friend’s life is in your hands now. Stay here and don't move.” Grinning, Lotor watched the figures in the distance approach. Team Voltron. They were headed this way. For the meeting. Without Keith. _They were going to walk past and see him like this._ Keith felt sickened, skin itching and every _fibre_ of him burning.

“Hm, Ezor… What colour shall it be?”

Catching on, Ezor cast Keith a sly look before disappearing into thin air. Her voice was still present, indicating she was closeby.

“I usually like blue, _although_ I'm in the mood for yellow today.”

A bluff. _Probably._ But probably wasn’t good enough. Keith didn’t indulge probability, he chased truth. And the truth was that he couldn’t eliminate the possibility of Ezor being serious. She had said yellow. _Hunk._   

“ _Touch them_ and you're done,” he snapped whilst stepping forwards. A shove came from Zethrid, pushing him back into place.

“You possess this level of loyalty to Voltron? Even now?” Lotor shook his head, grimacing. “Blackmail is so distasteful, however you leave me no choice.”

Leaning forwards, Lotor grabbed Keith fiercely by the collar on his armour. Faces inches apart, he spoke. Keith hated that he shuddered, could _feel_ the terrifying force and power emanating from Lotor.

“Try anything, do anything, _say_ anything, and Ezor makes her move on the yellow one. Do you understand?”

“Ye-”

Zethrid pushed harder, knocking both his sentence and the breath from his lungs. At the action, Lotor raised an eyebrow.

“Easy, Zethrid.”

That seemed to deter the general, albeit begrudgingly. As she stepped back, Lotor stepped forwards again. There was something understated in the gesture. Like he actually cared. Almost. Keith didn’t understand, and he didn’t _want to._

“Do you know what is required of you, Keith?”

No talking, right. Averting his eyes, Keith nodded. This subservience, _bowing,_ was something that set ablaze the fire in him. He didn't have to talk. He didn’t have to say a single word. Words weren’t Keith’s specialty anyway. If the team could see how miserable he felt, if he poured every ounce of his feelings into his expression - maybe they would get it.

Or maybe they wouldn't. Maybe they’d misunderstand _maybe Lotor was right all along-_

-No. It wasn't just the paladins on the line here, it was Shiro too. Compromising any of their safety was out of the question. So as Keith lifted his head, he did the only thing he could. Keith made conscious effort to drain the emotion from his face. Squeeze out the pain, harbour away the guilt and shame and _remorse._ Tuck the desperation into corners nobody could see. Burrow the defiant flames deeper.

He was seldom stoic, but in this moment if that's what it took he would play the part. Lotor wanted the team to believe he’d come here by choice, of his own free will. It was time to deploy the expression many confused with something callous and uncaring. Time to lead the team away from danger.

“Princess Allura,” Lotor bowed courteously as the paladins reached them. “You look radiant.”

“If only I could say the same for you.” Allura refused to take his hand or return any gesture of propriety. Not when they were in proximity without prying eyes, and diplomacy was already so thinly stretched. Keith respected her for that a great deal. He just _hoped_ she wouldn't look his way. None of them needed to see this, _see him._

“Keith…” It took every ounce of strength not to wince or respond to the blatant _hurt_ in that voice. _Damn it._ It just had to be Lance didn't it. It was always Lance who saw him. Even when Keith didn't want him to, Lance sought him out. Watched him in the corners. Great. Now he could feel all their eyes on him.

“Ah yes. Your little rogue paladin,” Lotor remarked. “He looks good doesn't he?”

“I didn't want to really believe it.”

Keith felt something imploding in his chest, knocking the breath from his lungs. Hunk sounded so sad, so very sad. That was not okay. But Hunk was okay, _would be okay._ That counted. Not that the team would know that. Pidge pushed her way to the front of the group, eyes glazed with tears.

“How could you?!” she yelled. “How could you _abandon us_? You were always the one who told me that a paladin -”

Keith kept his eyes fixed ahead on the horizon. He couldn't look. If he looked, his resolve would crumble even more than it already was. Just _hearing_ the anger and anguish in her voice had his hands shaking.

“-Pidge, no!” Shiro held a hand out, forcing her back as she dove forwards suddenly with her bayard.

 _“Let me go_ , Shiro!”

“Pidge. It's too late,” Lance whispered, but Keith caught it.

“Keith,” Shiro began.

Slowly, Keith trailed his eyes to Shiro, the _copy_ of Shiro. He thought it would be okay to do that, reminding himself this wasn't the _real Shiro._ But catching this Shiro’s eyes was a mistake. A huge mistake that  he couldn’t turn back on. Those eyes were full of things that were so very Shiro. _His Shiro._ Keith saw it. _He felt it._ Gritting his teeth, Keith stared blankly at the copy. _Damn this._ He had to hold it together. For _them._

“Whatever it is you think you're doing, this isn't right. You don't have to do this.”

“What choice did he have?” Lotor asked, voicing the virulence Keith was _appalled_ to be feeling even a fraction of because there was truth nestled into these words. “Where else could he go? You left him out here. And I couldn't do that. That's where we’re different.”

“Keith, he's merely toying with you. _Please!”_ Allura tried to catch his eyes. Casting his attention to the sky, Keith clenched his jaw. Something hot and uncomfortable poked at this eyes. He couldn't watch this.

Silence hung between them. It was a swan song Keith never wanted, never asked for. But it was here. And it was happening.

He’d already parted ways with them, already refused to say goodbye. So why did this feel like he was making the same choice all over again? The first time had been hard enough. This was much worse.

“It’s too late to reconcile, some things must come to an end.”

Lotor himself sounded momentarily troubled. It was unclear how genuine it was; Keith didn't want to think about any of what was going on. He focused on the rising sun ahead, the new dawn that brought with it the promise of being cleaved open. The sky was pink, the colour of Allura’s armour. The final wisps of the night a grey that lingered in Shiro’s eyes. Flickers of blue and green etched into the edges of the sunrise. Yellow spread over the horizon, warm and serene. Huh.

They were everywhere, these people that gave him no warning before weaving themselves so intricately into his heart.

“Voltron will _never_ end.”

Keith gave a series of slow, hard blinks. Keep it together. Focus. _Just a little longer to hold out._ Focus on the sky. _Patience yields focus._ Voltron was the most important thing here.

“Perhaps,” Lotor drawled. “All I see that remains of your Voltron is a hollow promise of peace that can't be delivered.”

 _“We’ll see about that_.”

The sheer ferocity in Allura’s words swelled in Keith’s chest, threatening to burst. She would do the team proud, they all would. Lotor stepped forwards. The other generals did too. But not Keith. He knew Ezor was still here, likely hovering by his side to monitor him.

“I suggest you compose yourself, Princess. An unravelled diplomat looks far worse than an inexperienced paladin.”

Keith’s attention sharpened. Agitated. Angry. _Inexperienced paladin._ The slight had Allura’s posture straightening, expression stern and rigid. With a muffled huff, she stubbornly stepped through the archway. Whilst seeming unfazed, Lotor had hit a crack in her defence. He was good at knowing just where to hit.

The paladins followed Allura. Keith wasn't sure why he looked. But he did. Watching his team walk away, _leave him here_ was destroying him in the most painful of ways. Lips trembled, eyes pressed shut.

 _Here's an option for you, shut your quiznak!_ Keith had been so easily riled by Lance back then. They’d come a long way. _I think turning Galra made you a better human._ Without Hunk’s compassion and good judgement, Rolo and Nyma would've gotten away with the blue lion. _Go loose, Pidge!_ The green paladin and her genius. Allura barrelling into him, drawing him into a hug. _Come back to us._ Shiro’s firm hand on his shoulder, unwavering devotion. _If I don't make it out of here, I want you to lead Voltron._

Coran and his _bizarre_ phrases. Getting chased by security in the space mall. Decontamination after a squishy asteroid fight. Trying to form Voltron in a cheer pyramid.

Their first battle.

_Their last battle._

Keith snapped his eyes open, hand outstretched. It was too late. The team were gone. Out of sight. Not out of mind, _never out of mind._

Ezor reappeared, guiding him back to their quarters.

“Hm, no struggling this time?” she asked when met with no resistance.

Keith remained silent, quickening the pace.

**♞**

“You were having a bit of a moment back there,” Ezor started once they were back on the ship.

Perched in the corner, the back of his head leaning against the wall, Keith gave no response. He had no interest in conversation. Honestly, he didn't understand why she wanted to talk to him. Unless she was just fishing for some more jokes. Probably.

“We’re more alike than you think, you know.”

Keith laughed at that, a broken unsettling sound. _Definitely_ fishing for jokes, then.

“It's not funny!” Ezor protested inching closer. She sat beside him, shoulders almost bumping. It reminded Keith of the times Lance sat with him, swaying into his personal space on purpose and playfully starting elbow fights. Yet the difference was staggering, _missed._

“It's true. When Lotor picked me up, I really didn't want to go with him. I still believed my friends and family wanted me. But my own family tried to sell me for money, and my friends split the shares in selling all my belongings with them.”

Keith processed the story quietly. It hadn't occurred to him that the half-Galra generals may well have had hardships of their own. He’d been so _fixated_ on Lotor, he went back on his own words: _maybe things aren't as black and white as they seem._

“That's too bad. But my friends aren't like that.”

“Well, they still made you leave your home,” Ezor said with a shrug, taking no enjoyment in the subject. Just as Keith didn't enjoy _hearing it_.

“They didn't make me- it was…” sigh. Ezor waited patiently for his words. “It was my fault. They had no choice. I ruined everything. The Tukarians wouldn't speak with us because of me.”

“It's easier to blame yourself. It hurts less,” Ezor admitted, curling in on herself. Her voice was raw, packed with things that were unexpected. Keith glanced over in open surprise at the confession. Still, he couldn't let Ezor see any more vulnerable spots. Lotor had glimpsed enough. Leaning back, Keith looked up to the ceiling blankly.

“Yeah.”

“Lotor is a great leader,” Ezor began with clear reverence. At this stage, Keith didn't doubt it despite not liking it. That much was clear. Lotor knew _exactly_ what he was doing and he knew _exactly_ how to instil unyielding loyalty into his team.

“And... he’d never tell you, but things really aren't as black and white as they seem.”

The words had Keith sitting up, scanning Ezor’s face for any signs of deception. He found none.

“What are you talking about?” For the first time, he asked out of curiosity, not because he wanted intel or some way to try and stop Lotor.

“Just because Lotor is Zarkon’s son doesn't mean-”

The opening of the main doorway cut Ezor off. She vanished into thin air immediately. Keith felt a light squeeze on his shoulder, it wasn't intended to be anything besides a gesture of camaraderie. Not that he could accept it. They weren't friends, or teammates. But there was no time to rebuff. Lotor was back, which meant the meeting was over.

As Lotor stepped into the room, Ezor materialised besides Acxa and the other generals. Keith hitched a breath, waiting for the news.

“We won the alliance,” Lotor announced, sweeping past Keith. It shook Keith to his bones, those words violently ramming further into him. Voltron had lost. The alliance had been lost. To Lotor. _No._

“Now we’ll take down Voltron.”

“No!” Keith leapt onto his feet, reaching for a blade that wasn't there.  _They had lost._

Zethrid stepped forwards, shackling his hands with plasma chains that connected to the wall behind. Tugging against them was futile. But it didn't stop Keith from giving it his best shot. The generals dispersed to the main control room on Lotor’s request, leaving only them.

Keith was too consumed in his own inferno to notice Ezor lingered a moment, Acxa pushing her onwards - but not without a hard considering look of her own towards her rescuer.

“Thank you,” Lotor said, and Keith could hardly contain the burst of fury inside him. Head bowed, he grit his teeth.

Voltron had _lost._

“Without you, it wouldn't have been possible.”

Lotor had won the alliance. He'd won the armoury. Voltron and the entire _universe_ stood no chance. And worse: the words thrown his way made sense.

“All I had to do was pick off the weak link. And unfortunately, you were the weakest one. You weren't even _connected to them._ I felt it. You came to face me in the truce test - they pulled away,” Lotor sighed. “Yet you still remain loyal to them. Those who were so quick to cast you aside.”

The words were tinged with confusion. He looked to Keith with something close to fascination, as if he was trying to figure this out for no other agenda besides _understanding._ That was rare in itself, people never made time to understand Keith. Assume and speculate? Absolutely. It was uncomfortable, to see the son of Zarkon like this _._ Ezor’s words crawled back to the front of Keith’s mind. _Just because he's Zarkon’s son doesn't mean-_

Damn. If only he got the end to that sentence.

“You've hardly been welcoming,” Keith replied for lack of better things to say, lifting his arms to extend the chains. His team would never treat him like _this_ , like a prisoner.

“Consider it a rite of passage,” Lotor said almost solemnly. “Don't think you're getting special treatment.”

He brought a hand to his own wrist, tracing over the places where marks once may have been on his own skin. Keith narrowed his eyes, staring at the spot. Once again, Ezor’s words rang in his mind. The implication was evident enough. But it didn't make sense. It didn't make any of this _better,_ or remotely okay either. Voltron had lost. Lotor was going after them. 

“You have the best view.” Lotor made his way to the door. “You can sit here and watch the end of Voltron.”

Keith went horribly still.

“ _Awww_ , I think you upset him,” Ezor remarked with a pout.

“Move out. I’ll take the comet ship. The rest of you can pick from the Tukarian armoury.”

“You mean _your_ armoury,” Acxa corrected, a proud smile on her face.

Keith flinched. He saw it then, the raw admiration. All that intensity and devotion he had for Shiro. _You mean your bayard._ He shared in that pride, but _not like this._ This couldn't be the same. Could it? No. Not when Lotor was prepared to blow Voltron and _everyone_ Keith cared about in the universe to smithereens.

"Mhm yes,” Lotor mused, casting Keith a final fleeting glance. “I suppose I do.”

**♞**

As the doors to the castle of lions opened, Allura strode in with purpose. But not with her usual poise. In its place was something fractured. The team trailed in behind her.

“What is it, Princess?” Coran asked, noting the tension and poorly suppressed panic exuding from the team. Uncertainty hung about the air, stretching into an unsettling feeling that grew and grew.

“We didn't get the alliance. We have to leave, now!” Allura walked briskly across the bridge, hands pressed onto the main panel.

“What about Keith?” Lance asked.

“What about him, Lance?” Pidge countered, already in her seat and ready to go. There was a scowl on her face. “He left us. You _saw_ him.”

“But we left him _first.”_

“Lance. I'm not letting us go through this again.” Hunk held up a placating hand. “Please, stop.”

“Alright everyone. We’ll talk about this later if we have to,” Shiro began, and once again the suspicions Keith had raised rose up in Lance. _I don’t think our Shiro is the real one._ “Right now, the priority is getting out of here before Lotor tries to make us use Voltron.”

“I'm opening a wormhole,” Allura answered, closing her eyes in attempts to better reign in her scattered focus.

“Good,” Shiro said coolly.

“No, _not good_ _!_ Shiro, it's _Keith._ Couldn't you see he didn't look right? He-”

“-Lance!” Hunk snapped. “You're just seeing what you _want to see_ because you're upset. Keith is gone, okay? You're gonna have to deal with that.”

“Allura how's that wormhole coming?” Shiro asked above the dispute, doing his best to move the situation on. Ahead of them, the wormhole was half-formed - hardly the perfect gateway usually created by the Princess of Altea.

“I _can't_.” Opening her eyes in frustration, Allura sighed. Defeated, she lowered her head. “I’m sorry. I can't open it.”

“Then we’ll have to push through it.”

“We can't do that!” Pidge objected passionately. “It would tear off half the ship!”

“Pidge is right. Coran, do you think you can bide us time?” Allura lifted her hands from the podium, glancing over to him. With a firm nod, Coran stepped forwards.

“I’ll do what I can.” Turning his head, he frowned. “But you can't possibly…”

“We have no choice,” Allura conceded. “Paladins - we _must_ get to the lions!”

**♞**

The chains binding Keith to the wall were impossible to escape. And it definitely had to be out of wounded pride and petty spite that Lotor had left his marmora blade _just_ out of reach. Even with stretching his feet forwards, twisting and turning in every way he could possibly manage, the blade was hopelessly far away. _Damn it._ In any other situation it might've been funny, to discover how fragile Lotor’s ego truly was beneath the surface.

But not when Voltron was on the precipice of annihilation.

Colours burst through the sky. Vibrant colours too bright and vivid to be anything besides the Voltron lions. They moved fast, swiftly caught in the middle of a rapid onslaught. The comet ship weaved around effortlessly, other ships from the armoury close behind and in formation. They were organised. They had the _tools._ They had the armoury.

In contrast, Team Voltron had nothing but the perseverance to fight for good. And whilst that was admirable, had gotten them _far_ , it dealt little damage in the face of threats like this. Struggling desperately against the plasma handcuffs, Keith yanked once more. Nothing. It wasn't budging. He couldn’t just _sit here._ He had to move. Somehow.

“Argh, _come on_!” He hissed, slamming a foot down angrily against the floor.

A huge surge of energy lit up the horizon. Squinting, Keith tried to keep up with what was going on. It was hard to discern. He couldn't see _any_ colours right now. No signs of his team. But Lotor’s side weren't letting up. A barrage of artillery fired and fired and _fired_ in the direction of the blast. Something made contact with something else, exploding across the sky. Keith still couldn't _see_ anything besides the flashing lights.

He had to get out of here. Right now.

The sound of the doors sliding open had Keith on guard. He was fairly certain Ezor went out there with Lotor - _all_ his generals had. So whoever was in here was an intruder. Or, Keith swallowed-hard and braced himself, someone Lotor had purposefully sent.

“Who’s there?” He called out, fighting against the binds once more.

When a familiar group came into focus, Keith couldn't hide his momentary elation. At the front, a face Keith was relieved to see lowered his mask.

“Kolivan.”

Another blade member lunged forwards with so much rife intensity it almost had Keith jolting back and preparing himself for an attack he couldn’t hope to block. None came. Instead, the Galra appeared to be looking over Keith for wounds and any signs of harm. They were smaller than the other Galra, more agile and leaner too. But the Galra had strong, firm shoulders. Pulling out a blaster, the Galra sliced through the plasma chains, extending a hand to Keith. It was then Keith noticed the absence of claws, the absence of sharpness.

This was a human hand.

Sucking in a breath, Keith hoisted himself up. A sharp stab of pain shooting up his ribs had him stumbling. Glancing at the hand still outstretched, he accepted the help. And once their hands touched _he knew._ Something gentle and familiar spread through him. Patient. _Kind._ He’d know that touch anywhere, know those hands. The ones that hoisted him back up when things were rough, the hands that pressed into his shoulders when he needed grounding.

Eyes wide, Keith collapsed into the firm embrace he was hastily drawn into. Just for a moment, he pressed shut his eyes and let this linger. Hell, they deserved this small slither of peace. Nobody was dragging this away from them, dragging _him_ away.

“First the Garrison, now Voltron. You better not be making a habit of flunking out and isolating yourself each time I disappear.” The blade’s helmet lifted to reveal a face that had Keith’s whole being shaking with both joy and disbelief. Hot tears poked at his eyes, the joke completely lost to the gravity of what was unfolding around him.

“Shiro…” He whispered, reaching out to check for himself this wasn't a cruel trick or deceptive play of the mind. He hesitated at the final hurdle, fingers curling back towards his palm. That prompted Shiro to speak.

“It's good to have you back, Keith.”

Keith blinked. That made _no sense._ That was supposed to be Keith’s line in this situation. _Shiro_ was the one who had vanished. Not Keith.

“It’s good to have _you_ back Shiro,” he corrected.

Leaning forwards, Shiro threaded his fingers through the hair behind Keith’s neck. Slowly, their foreheads pressed together. Keith took a shaky breath, shutting his eyes. _God._ It was real. Shiro was really here. A breathless laugh escaped Shiro’s lips as Keith pushed against his forehead with urgency. _Shiro was here._ He was really here. 

“It's good to be back,” Shiro finished gently, giving in to Keith’s insistence that if they were doing this it was this way or no way. Pulling away, Shiro turned to Kolivan with a nod.

“We’ll catch up. Get everything ready.”

Holding up a spare suit, Kolivan passed it to Keith.

“Change into this. I'm sure you recognise it.”

The feel of Shiro here, his warm assurance and presence, sent ripples of newfound determination through Keith. As Kolivan walked away, Keith tore the Galra armour off and started slipping into the Blade of Marmora suit. That felt good. Tension stripped away, replaced with a sense of belonging. Purpose.

As his eyes roamed over to Shiro, he took in the other’s appearance. Those grey eyes were unmistakable. The blade of marmora suit emphasised his broad shoulders and chiselled jawline. It was a bemusing sight, seeing Shiro in the same outfit as himself. Keith supposed it was for the sole purpose of keeping Shiro off radar and disguised once on board. That didn’t even _begin_ to answer all the other questions he had, though.

“Where did you go?” He asked, picking up his blade. “What - what happened?”

_I never gave up on you. I searched for you. I searched so long and I never stopped not until I thought you were back with us. Even when-_

“It’s a long story. One we don't have time for,” Shiro began with a grimace that spoke volumes. _Where were you._ A blast outside brought them back to the pressing situation they were in. “All you need to know right now is I’m here. And-”

Heading down the main deck after Kolivan, Shiro spluttered on a breath drawn too quickly. The noise was unnatural, strange to hear from his lips. Keith fell into the brisk pace naturally, matching the concern. This time, they _were_ in sync. As they walked, Keith noticed the way Shiro’s shoulders locked. He didn’t have to look to know tension was visible on his face.

“And?” Keith prompted, sensing the unease building at an alarming rate within Shiro.

“And I know about Kuron.”

“Kuron...”

The word meant nothing to Keith. He hadn't heard that name before, but it sounded like something Shiro _expected_ him to know. As they met eyes, that was proven. For a moment, just a passing moment, Shiro looked terribly helpless and overwhelmed. The anchor that gave weight to so many, made the _universe_ shake and stop and _listen_ and feel the enormity of hope and resilience he emanated.

But this anchor was thrown too far overboard, becoming lost in the depths of his own ruins. 

This was everything Shiro never deserved. Shadows Keith couldn’t chase away cornered him. Plummeting down down _down_ , far enough to slip into obscurity. A plight that was unspeakably unfair: a hero’s plight. Worse: _a hero’s sacrifice._

“The Shiro on the ship,” Kolivan supplied. “The one that is posing as him, that is Kuron.”

_Oh._

“Hurry. Your team needs you, paladin.”

That brought Keith to a sudden standstill. He couldn’t look Kolivan or Shiro in the eye. He was ashamed. Everything that had led him to Lotor’s ship was difficult to accept. But it had happened.

“Maybe you didn’t know, but I - I'm not a paladin anymore.”

A hand came to his shoulder; Keith shrugged it off out of reflex. He momentarily had assumed this would be _like Kuron._ Without thinking. An instinct he didn’t want to indulge. Even with Shiro here, the words etched into his skin from before were still lingering. _Failed the team. Sulking._ The hurt flashed through Shiro’s eyes fast, but not fast enough to go unnoticed. Keith wanted to say something _anything_ to stop that and put it right. But Shiro was always giving every piece of himself for others, cradling the shards of his _broken_ being.

“Keith, what? _That's ridiculous._ I didn't come all this way for you to throw away everything.”

“You don't get it, Shiro!” Keith replied with a clenched first. It _hurt_ to acknowledge the events, to remember their faces. It hurt to remember nobody followed him, or even tried to. Despite his attempts, his efforts to lead, the foundations were weak. And even though it hadn't been Shiro, Kuron had been there. With everything that felt empty in comparison to the genuine article. It should have vanished, now he was standing here in front of Shiro - the _real_ Shiro.

“They - it's - I-”

“No.” Shiro shook his head, folding his arms. “You're not doing this. I won't let you.”

Averting his gaze, Keith chewed his lip. Shame and anguish moulded into one concoction that poured over him. Shiro didn't sound disappointed, that was one thing at least.

“This isn't the Keith I know. The Keith I know wouldn’t be backing down right now. He was always prepared to do whatever it takes for the mission.”

Glancing up, Keith met a stern unyielding expression. And then he saw it, that earnest nature. This was a Shiro who had fought and fought and fought and _won_. A Shiro who would continue to fight for Keith and the team and their safety. A Shiro who wouldn't tell them to _deal with the consequences -_ he’d prevent them from having to make a choice that would even take things that far.

Above all, these were words Keith had been craving to hear, _needing to hear._ And now they were coming his way, it floored him. How could he have forgotten for a _second_ what Shiro was like? How could he have ever doubted his gut on this? This was Shiro. Of course it was. Rediscovering the things Kuron could never hope to replicate strengthened it all. The real Shiro would give Keith this and more, _so much more_. A thousand times over. In every reality. Without question.

“The Keith I know would set aside his own feelings in a heartbeat. He was selfless and...- the bravest and best person I’ve ever met. He was all in.”

 _I’m all in._ Shiro's eyes rested on Keith, swathed in unbounded support.

“He was someone I admired more than anything.”

“Shiro…” _That's you._ Shiro was the one who held up the sky, the one who was doing whatever he could for Keith. And ultimately, Shiro was _right_ about everything. 

“We need you, Keith. The _team_ need you. So what's it gonna be?” His hand came to Keith’s shoulder with more confidence than previously. It felt electric, recharging his drive and energising every atom inside him. Keith didn’t push away, he sunk into the touch. _This was Shiro._ “You can sit here and mope, or you can join the fight.”

“Let's go,” Keith said, fire burning through his veins and blazing in each word. He broke into a run after Kolivan. Grinning, Shiro watched him and soon caught up.

“That's more like it!”

**♞**

“This was a bad idea!” Pidge cried as another hit came their way, too quick to dodge.

“Pidge - look out!” Allura steered blue forwards, only to take a hit equally as quickly.

“Can I maybe get a little help? My lion’s getting busted over here!!” Hunk yelled. Eyes clamped shut, he endured a double attack. Pidge dove forwards, nudging yellow a fraction in order to share the impact.

“We need Voltron!”

“Shiro, Lance!” Allura searched the perimeter urgently. But there was no sign of the red and black lion.

“The black lion isn't responding. I can't get in,” Shiro said through the comms, frustration nipping at the edges of each word.

“Red won't listen to me either, I think it's something to do with Keith.”

“So we can't form Voltron.” Pidge slowed the green lion, coming to a standstill.

“No. Not without Keith,” Allura confirmed. Two lions down was no good for any of them.

“Keith was right. We should've taken this chance to finish this and stop Lotor,” Shiro frowned, clenching a fist. The tension was emanating even through the comms. It was pushed through by Lance.

“ _It's a little late for that_. Keith’s gone and it's our fault. Maybe I’m wrong, but I don't feel we acted as Paladins.”

“We didn't,” Allura concluded. “We acted shamefully. All of us. One alliance does not go above the bond we have to each other.”

“Except it kinda did,” Hunk admitted, bracing himself for another hit. “We all did that and now it's too late. We didn't even _get_ the alliance.”

“I called him a loner...” Pidge said sadly.

“We were his family,” Lance’s voice came through the comms, hopeless and heavy. “And we abandoned him.”

“He probably hates us. We - we _deserve_ this!” Hunk frowned.

“Maybe we do.” Allura remained fierce. “But the _universe_ doesn't deserve to fall just because of our wrongdoings. We have _no choice_ but to keep fighting.”

“You can't! Not without Voltron!” Lance pleaded.

“We have to.”

With that, the blue lion pushed ahead and threw itself back into the battle. Yellow and Green followed.

**♞**

“There are only three lions out there.” Kolivan said as they came to the loading bay.

“What?” Shiro gasped, tearing his attention to the sky. The colours were moving almost too fast to discern, but if Kolivan was _right._ A small flash of light lit up the sky, and Shiro seemed to see what he was looking for. Or rather, he _didn't._ Spinning to Keith urgently, he frowned.

“Keith, the red and black lion are missing.”

Eyes wide, Keith stared up. _No. No way._ Now he could see a little better and it was true. Green. Yellow. Blue. Nobody else was up there.

“The black lion won't respond to Kuron. I'm not sure why red won't answer to Lance.” Keith sighed, running a hand through his hair. Frustration would do him no good here. That didn’t mean he didn’t _feel it_ coursing through his veins. Voltron didn't stand a _chance_ out there. “It _worked_ it did it - it worked for Lance before.”

“The red lion has a bond with you too,” Shiro reminded him. “My guess is the red lion won't work because you're not there.”

_Because you're not there._

_Because you left them._

“Hurry. This pod will take you to the castle,” Kolivan explained as a few blades secured the area. “Get to the lions and form Voltron. That is the only chance you have of winning.”

Keith steeled himself. It was time to fix all of this. Halfway into the pod, he paused. Eyes scanned the loading bay frantically. _No._ No way. There were no other ships ready. Just this pod. Sharp realisation cut through him. _Oh._ Gritting his teeth, he pushed away from the pod with force. All his intensity was thrown towards Shiro, Shiro who was just _standing there_ and had the audacity to look confused.

“Keith, what-”

“-There's only one seat.” Pause. “Shiro. There’s only one seat in this pod.”

“This is a journey only you can make,” Kolivan clarified calmly. The confirmation unravelled Keith’s resolve. There was only one seat. For him. 

“No…” Rushing towards Shiro, Keith desperately reached out. “ _Shiro_ \- it’s, I - I can't-... _come with me.”_

“Keith. I’m sorry.” Shiro met his eyes then, something wretchedly poignant nestled in the grey. He was holding back, for _Keith’s_ benefit. “It’ll just cause more instability to the team and we don't need that right now.”

“They need you,” Keith insisted, stepping forwards almost like a challenge. _They need you._ He’d said those words before in the hushed privacy of Shiro’s room, to a man with the exact same face. “The _real_ you.”

“They don't.” Shiro smiled sadly, and the worst part was he seemed to believe it. “They need their leader, Keith.”

“That's _you_!” Keith hissed. Eyes chased Shiro’s forlornly, imploring him to change his mind. _Shiro had to change his mind._ Shiro _couldn't_ do this. There was only one seat. “Shiro, it - that - I can’t…” _I’m not like you, I can’t lead them like you._ That seat belonged to Shiro. He deserved so much. Least of all that seat. 

“You take it! Take the pod and - and get back to the team!” Keith gestured to the pod, but the fire inside was ebbing into something despondent. He knew what had to be done. He _understood._

“It's okay, Keith.” Shiro was remarkably impassive, expression reserved. Once again, it had to be for Keith’s benefit. Nothing about this was easy. “We need to figure out this Kuron thing and make sure we do it right.”

“Shiro believes Kuron could be set to become a bomb, programmed to self-detonate if the mission is compromised.” Kolivan remained relatively composed, though appeared a little uncomfortable to witness the unravelling of the Galra paladin all over again. His grimace was wide and set deep into his skin.

“It's a risk we can't take. If both of us meet, everyone could be in danger. For now, it's best we keep acting like he's me. Meanwhile, the blades and I will keep looking for more information.”

“ _I can't do that_ Shiro,” Keith muttered dejectedly, barely able to get the words out past the growing lump in his throat threatening to burst. Leave without Shiro, _leave Shiro._ All over again. On purpose. It was unthinkable. Abandoning Shiro when he was _right here._

“I can't leave you.” _Not again_.

“Hey, _hey.”_ Stepping forwards, Shiro held Keith by the shoulders. “Buddy. You're not leaving me.”

Reaching into his pocket, Shiro pulled out a small device shaped like the blade of marmora’s symbol. Holding it out, he pressed it into Keith’s palm and held it there firmly.

“We’ll use this to communicate. I’ll be there with you, okay?”

Grasping the hand tightly, Keith pursed his lips.

“Okay,” he managed, voice raspy and breathless in the way that signalled nothing besides his own distress. A final squeeze and Shiro released Keith’s hand. The loss of touch burned. It was a sensation Keith couldn't chase. Gesturing to the pod, Shiro smiled softly. The smile was a defeated and weary thing, held together by fondness. The best Keith could do was honour it, _honour Shiro._

“You got this, Keith. I believe in you.”

“I believe in you,” Keith replied without hesitation, tucking the communication device into his side pocket. If he had Shiro on his side, he could do it. He _would_ do it.

“That’s not enough.”

Something quiet and hushed passed between them, something Kuron had never once cultivated in Keith. Lips upturning a fraction, Keith caught the undertone. He could hear what Shiro was trying to instil inside him. The same things he always had.

“...I believe you.” _I believe that you believe in me, so I’ll try to believe in myself._

“That's a start. Now go get ‘em.”

Shiro watched him climb into the pod. He looked openly proud, tinged with his own remorse. In the height of all this, Keith hadn't considered that Shiro may be seeing this situation differently. Not as Keith abandoning him, but the reverse. Now it made sense. Before he could reassure Shiro, a blast from the battlefield caught their attention.

“Go, Keith!” Shiro called urgently, a firm nod.

Engine firing up, Keith gripped the controls tightly and shifted the pod into gear.

He didn’t look back.

**♞**

“Red, please!” Lance exclaimed, throwing his hands out. “Everyone's out there and they _need us._ ”

Nothing. The barrier was still up. _Maybe you just have to knock._ Smiling bleakly, Lance held a hand out against the barrier. Red wasn't letting him in. They were two lions down. The others had gone out there and now they stood no chance.

“Red, listen.” Lance rested his head against the barrier, eyes pressured shut despondently. “Keith’s gone. He's not coming back. Oh boy... you really got the short straw being stuck with me, huh?” Laughing humourlessly, Lance lifted his head. “If _anyone_ deserves to be your paladin, it's Keith. I’m sorry, Red. I’m sorry we left Keith.”

“Save the apologies for later, right now we gotta move and quit moping around feeling sorry about stuff.”

“Keith?”

Lance spun round, eyes wide and full of hope. As he caught sight of Keith walking forwards, he dashed to meet him. He seemed unsure of whether to go for a hug. As a result, his arms flailed around for a moment awkwardly yet animatedly.

“ _K_ _eith!_ You're back!” Eyes roaming over the suit, he raised an eyebrow. “You just can't resist hoarding all the cool stuff for yourself, can you?”

Keith bit his tongue, almost letting slip Shiro was currently wearing a marmora suit too. He had a feeling that wouldn't go down well. Not to mention the priority was to rescue the team. _Form Voltron._

“Well, anyway. It's much better than the _last suit_ you were wearing,” Lance offered, holding out a hand. Shaking it, Keith grinned _shakily_. Being back here felt surreal. _Good._

Their attention swiftly turned back to the Red lion. Keith frowned at the sight. _Oh dear._ The barrier was up. Red looked completely unresponsive, which meant Red really was mad. Beyond mad. It was a wonder, and a _good thing,_ Red didn't try to follow him out of the castle once he left. Bringing Red to Lotor was something Keith would’ve never forgiven himself for. Thankfully, the Red lion had listened to his words about sticking with the castle no matter what. _Perhaps a little too much._

Nodding encouragingly, Lance lingered a few steps behind.

“Hey Red, it's me.”

Hand tracing over the barrier, Keith frowned. Red roared immediately at his presence. It was defensive and clearly upset. Still, that was _something._ Better than being unresponsive. Though it certainly wasn't a happy sound, torn between keening and a stubborn reluctance to yield.

Keith couldn't help but be reminded of their first meeting. _Open up, it's me._

“ _R_ _ed._ Come on,” Keith said with a warning, raising his head firmly. Red growled, softer but still with pointed insistence. _Come on! I’m bonding with you!_ “I know you were just trying to look out for me. And I appreciate it.”

_It’s me, Keith. Your buddy._

“But right now, I need you to look out for Lance so we can look out for the team. I trust him, and I _know_ you do too.”

_It’s me, Keith. I- I am your paladin!_

“We need to form Voltron. Without you, that's not possible. You gotta help us, Red. Just let us in.” Lowering his gaze, Keith withdrew his hand. “We’re better than this.”

The barrier dropped, then. Keith breathed a sigh of relief, gazing fondly up at the lion. He realised then what Red had been waiting for: stubborn acceptance of his place, of what he had to do, of who he could become. For the sake of nostalgia, and the warmth dancing over his skin, he delivered the next words.

“Good kitty.”

Red purred in response, stairs lowering to allow Lance inside. Lips twitching, Keith felt Lance pat him on the back before running ahead.

“You go get the black lion, I’ll meet you out there.”

**♞**

On the battlefield, team Voltron weren't faring well against the onslaught of ships. Coran was doing his best from the castle to give support, but even that was seemingly futile. Each time a hit was ready to be made, the castle defences had to be raised to preserve the weakening particle barrier. The tactical game of Lotor and his generals was a good one. And with three lions and a castle, team Voltron stood little chance in this game. Just _hearing_ the team come into focus through the comms was distressing.

“What do we do?” Pidge steered the green lion out of the way, firing a beam to protect the blue lion. Hunk charged past, barrelling into one of the Tukarian ships. The effect was minimal, merely shoving it back.

“They're too strong! Even yellow can't take them.”

“We’ve failed. We can't fight them!” Allura shouted, caught up in her own despair. Yellow took another hit, shielding the green lion from damage.

“We can,” Keith said as he and Lance approached. “And we will.”

Around him, the team erupted into jubilant cries and elated cheers. Not just for the presence of the black lion, but because _Keith_ was here. Something swelled in Keith’s chest as their faces popped up on the screen. But he couldn't let it last, he couldn't languidly take in all the things he _knew_ had been there from the beginning in each and every one of his friends. No. He had a responsibility here. To the team, _his team._ Keith took a breath, clutching the controls tighter.

“Everyone, listen good. Lotor won the alliance. But it's not over yet. If we beat him, they’ll realise they made the wrong choice and make the alliance with us. So that's what we’re gonna do.”

“ _How?”_ Pidge asked. For a moment, Keith was startled because _they were with him._

“We need a plan,” Keith replied, watching Lotor’s ships regroup.

“But what _is_ the plan?”

“I don't know yet.” The admission was met with shock, but at least Keith was being honest. Following his instincts had gotten him through things before. It wasn’t complacency, it was confidence. Finally, confidence in his abilities. “We’ll figure it out, okay? First we gotta form Voltron. Let's bounce!”

“Oh man. Just when I thought this was gonna be one of the coolest times we formed Voltron you go and say that...” Lance groaned, falling into formation nonetheless.

Swiftly, Voltron came into being. And there was no time to celebrate because _Lotor_ wasted no time either. The Tukarian ships moved forwards at rapid speeds, splitting up to take on Voltron from many sides.

“Form shoulder cannon!” Keith shouted. At his command, the yellow bayard was thrust in. “Fire!”

Charging forwards, Voltron activated the shoulder cannon. The shots fired in multiple directions, darting out after the ships that scurried in and out of range. Lotor’s ships were on the defensive from the relentless attack. That's exactly what they needed.

“Good. Now form sword!”

“ _Woah_ \- slow down Keith,” Lance called out, reaching for the red bayard.

“We can't slow down,” Keith replied, eyes trained ahead. “They're already figuring out how to dodge the shoulder cannon. If we wanna beat them, we need to pick up the pace.”

“We’re going as fast as we can!” Hunk added, scrambling to keep control of the leg whilst removing his bayard.

“ _No -_ we’re not.”

Maybe it was harsh. But it was true. Lotor was still playing games, and his generals were capable of so much more than what they were giving right now. Keith had got his fair taste of what may be on their horizon. That had to mean they were holding back, on purpose. And that wouldn’t last forever. It wouldn’t take long to be hurtled into a battle they _really_ couldn’t fight. And that was something none of them would escape. They had to shut this down as soon as possible.

“Look. I never said this was gonna be a breeze, we gotta push harder.” Keith narrowed his eyes. “ _Together,”_ he reiterated, because he wasn't prepared to lose morale at the expense of a devious foe they had been heavily underprepared for.

“Ready?” He prompted. The comet ship dove between the Tukarian ships at a speed Voltron could hardly hope to match.

“Ready.” A series of voices chanted back.

As they flew forwards, sword slashing and trying to make a hit, the ships scattered up ahead. Despite being outnumbered, Voltron was holding its own against them. For now. Keith knew well enough what this was. It was an endurance test. The sword kept them precariously out of range from attacks, the large diameter ensured that. Pulling the sword down would be when the tables turned again. Still, they _couldn't_ keep this strategy up forever. Keith knew that.

Something had to give.

“Pidge,” he called, beckoning the green lion’s cockpit onto his screen. “You guys held out against these ships. Is there _anything_ about the Tukarian technology you can tell us? Maybe we can use it.”

“Pulling data up now.” Voltron swung the sword, propelling backwards to avoid the surge of artillery. “Their technology relies on a set frequency. It's difficult to hack because the components forming it are near impossible to breakdown thanks to advanced programming. But I managed to figure out the algorithm.”

Pidge sounded pleased with herself. Keith grinned, equally as pleased. Of course she had done it.

“Uh, Pidge. Are you thinking what I'm thinking?” Hunk asked. “We could send a sonar attack out and-”

“-amplify the frequency enough to fry their systems!” Pidge replied with enthusiasm.

For once, Keith didn’t need to ask for a translation to their words.

“The blue lion!” Lance shouted across the comms. “Allura, if you put the blue bayard in I bet Voltron will get a sonar ray. Just like with Keith’s sword and Hunk’s cannon.”

“Me?” Allura asked, audibly doubtful.

“It’s a good plan,” Kuron admitted, contributing to the discussion for the first time. It was clear he wanted to encourage both Keith and Allura. It wasn't exactly the same as Shiro, but it was something nonetheless. Keith could hear it with more clarity now: Kuron was trying his best. Hands tracing over the communication device _Shiro_ gave him, Keith steeled himself. They could do this.

“Allura, you know what to do.” Keith left no room for anymore uncertainty. She had bonded with blue at an impressive rate, this wouldn’t be a problem for her. “Wait for my mark. When Pidge has the frequency patched in, we blast that sonar beam out.”

“What about the comet ship?” Allura asked. “It won't be affected by it.”

“Doesn't matter. We’re not aiming for Lotor,” Keith said assuredly. He’d seen the way the generals looked up to their leader, the bonds they had forged with each other. Ezor’s words, Acxa’s devotion. Striking them would most definitely cause Lotor to fallback. It wouldn't be an ideal win. But it would be a victory nonetheless. Small steps towards their goal.

“Um… I - I'm not the only one who heard Keith say that am I?” Hunk asked in mild disbelief, but mostly joking.

“Nope. Loud and clear and Lotor-free over here.”

“So it’s _not_ all about chasing Lotor after all.”

“Heh. Maybe we’ve fallen into another alternate reality,” Pidge teased.

“ _Guys_!” Keith couldn't keep the mirth out his voice, a raspy laugh breaking over his voice. “Trust me on this.”

_Just shut up and trust me._

“They're coming this way!” Lance warned, breaking up the teasing antics.

“Alright. Time to provoke and evade,” Keith responded.

A small apprehensive protest came from Hunk.

“Um. Don't you guys remember how _bad_ we are at evading?”

“We won't need to for long!” Pidge cut in. “It’s almost ready.”

The Tukarian ships fired. Voltron narrowly missed getting hit. Another round. Another narrow miss. And again. And again. Grazed. Pushed off course. Again. Keith clamped his eyes shut, focusing solely on the bond with his team and the lions. _Patience yields focus._ As the next hit came, they swerved sharply to the left.

“Sword!”

The sword came down, scraping against the side of one of the ships. They retreated immediately, momentary stasis lingering amongst the other ships. The comet ship sat alongside the hit vessel. A pilot flew out and the hatch opened. Seconds later, the Tukarian ship blew up. But nobody was hurt. There were no casualties. And _that_ was all the conformation Keith needed.

They cared for each other, this team of Lotor’s. Just like Keith did with his team and friends. Lotor cared for the wellbeing of his generals, enough to hesitate. They had a bond, not unlike the bond team Voltron had formed together.

Maybe they were even family.

“See?” Keith said over the comms, the stalemate coming to an end as the comet ship charged their way. Voltron fluidly fell into step with the attacks. “They look out for each other. They're not so different to us.”

“Yeah. Besides wanting to destroy the entire known universe and beyond,” Lance quipped sarcastically.

_Just because Lotor is Zarkon’s son doesn't mean-_

Keith didn't know _much_ about Lotor. But everything he’d seen complicated matters rather than simplifying them as expected. That fight with Zarkon had made things clear. His fight with Lotor had not. _That_ jarring difference was the key to figuring it out. 

“I'm not so sure,” was all he offered, hoping it didn't catch too far across the comms.

“Now’s not the time for a moral debate,” Pidge chipped in, indicating perhaps it had. “It's ready.”

“Okay team,” Kuron encouraged over the comms. “Get ready.”

The Tukarian ships got into position, gathering up power to strike once more.

“Allura, now!” Keith yelled.

With a furious cry, Allura plunged the blue bayard into the console, twisting it sharply. As she did, a blue laser canon materialised on the shoulder of Voltron. A delirious laugh escaped her lips, as if she hadn't believed it would work.

“Fire!”

The Paladins all braced themselves, releasing the power of the sonar beam upon the oncoming ships. As it hit the Tukarian ships they immediately went offline, drifting helplessly in space. It was the prime time to strike and take out their foes.

“Alright. Shoulder cannon,” Keith commanded.

The ships ahead were all floating offline. Deadweight in space and open to any attack. From experience with Zarkon, Keith knew that was a terrifying place to be. The comet ship dove between them rapidly, as if attempting to salvage the crew. But it was furious in movements, erratic. There was little grace to it. No finesse or elegance about its movements. Keith smirked.

Lotor had lost his cool.

“Yes!” Hunk cried. “The hunted who were once hunters but then got hunted have now become the hunters. Yay, we’re the hunters again!”

“Then what are we waiting for?!” Allura shrieked. “Keith!”

“Aim for the main ship,” he ordered.

“Wait. I'm confused. Not the comet ship?” Hunk asked.

“You’ve got an opening to take down Lotor’s main hub,” Kuron explained. “Without it they’ll be in big trouble for a while.”

“Let's do this!” Keith interjected swiftly, not wanting to waste the time they had _talking about it_.

The shoulder cannon fired. Victory was imminent, yet Keith still held his breath almost nervously. Maybe this was too good to be true. _Come on. Please work._ The comet ship dived out of harm’s way. But it wasn't even _in_ harm’s way. Eyes wide, Keith laughed in disbelief. No way. _It was working_. Lotor had fallen prey to _his_ game. The beam flew out of range, hurtling straight into the larger ship behind.

Cheers resounded as explosions tore through the empty vessel, _Lotor’s main point of call_. As the comet ship scrambled backwards, disappearing promptly into the distance, the cheers grew louder.

They _did it._

**♞**

A success and a victory weren’t always synonymous. Often in fact, they seldom joined together. Keith had been fighting battles his whole life, on a plethora of different fronts, and this was something he had learned quickly. With hard work and perseverance, he survived whatever obstacle was thrown his way. Sometimes to survive each day was a victory, the personal kind very few cared for or bothered to consider. But that victory was no success, it was simply a reminder of what would have to be done the next day. And the next. And the next. Strapped to a routine that was unbreakable - much like the knife was strapped to his belt.

Enlisting and being accepted into the garrison had been a success. The kind of success that proved, not just to Keith but to _everyone_ who had ever underestimated him, that this was only the start _he wouldn’t just survive he would_ _soar._ Ascend up to those stars above at highspeeds and sail away to new horizons. But that success was no victory, it simply was a taste of what he could’ve been. Reckless, they had said. Difficult. Impulsive. Discipline issue. In the face of expulsion and an immeasurable loss, Keith had succeeded in one thing: survival becoming his victory.

But today, their victory against Lotor was a success in itself. They won together. They’d proven that Lotor didn’t have the upper hand anymore. _If we fight together we win together._ Shiro had been right, that belief wasn’t misplaced. It never had been.

Exhilaration flooded through Keith’s veins as they made their way towards the castle. Coran was singing an old Altean hymn at the top of his lungs through the comms, hideously out of tune. At Allura’s suggestion that he needed some _serious revision_ , he merely sang louder. Hunk groaned, covering his ears as they guided the ship down towards Tukarius. Lance spun in Red, an elaborate manoeuvre he almost pulled off if he hadn’t tried to take it _too fast._ As a result he barreled straight into Pidge and the green lion who swatted him away playfully.

Keith laughed, then. A sound that rushed out of him before he could even _try_ stopping it. The pressure budding inside his chest withered, surrendering to the warmth brewing inside. Allura joined in the Altean song, voice rich and smooth as the lions entered the castle to breach the atmosphere.

Everyone fell into silence for the final verse. Honestly, Keith couldn’t think of a better landing than this.

“Sounding good, Princess,” he said with a soft smile.

“Allura - I didn’t know you could sing? That’s amazing!” Lance exclaimed through the comms.

“Most Alteans are fine singers-”

“-Are you _sure_ about that?” Hunk remarked, clearly hinting at Coran.

“-But it’s been quite a while!”

With that, the conversation cut out. Lions parked and in their hangars, it was time to hit the bridge and assemble to meet the Tukarians once more. For just a moment, however, Keith found himself lingering in the cockpit of the black lion. The lights dimmed as the lion powered down, leaving him eclipsed in memories he didn’t particularly want to revisit. The last few times he had sat here, it had felt very different. Hand smoothing over the controls, Keith stared wistfully.

“We did pretty good out there, huh?” A breathless laugh escaped his lips. “Thank you... I think I get it now.”

Pulling out the communication device Shiro had given him, Keith set it down on the console. He pressed his palm tightly into it, expression hardening with grit determination. The black lion seemed to sense exactly what it meant, rumbling in response.

“We’re gonna bring him home, I promise.”

Keith didn’t make promises. Promises were dangerous, rooted in words and not action. It was easy to make a promise, and even easier not to deliver on it. If you really meant it, _really_ were resolved in seeing something through, then surely you’d do it without question. You’d do it without anything having to be said. So Keith had never been one to indulge in promises - unless pushed to the edge of his resolve, _despairing_ and unsure of himself. _Shiro, you know me. I promise you I didn’t steal it._

This promise - bringing Shiro home - was one he would keep. No matter what it took. Shiro had devoted himself entirely to giving up everything for the paladins and others. He was still doing that now. With the black lion on Keith’s side, the _team_ on his side, there was nothing in the universe that would stop this promise being honoured.

Not even Lotor.

Exiting the black lion, Keith was greeted by a sight he didn’t expect. The whole team were there, huddled together and watching him. Despite their presence, none of them would meet his eyes. And all of sudden, that jubilant carefree air was replaced by something heavy. Walking towards them, Keith raised an eyebrow. Whatever this was, it was clearly something the team had been consulting each other about whilst he had been speaking to the black lion. Allura stepped forwards with unusual hesitance, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.

“I'm so sorry, Keith. This is not the first time I have misjudged you.”

Keith refused to acknowledge the words or hold anything against the Princess. They had worked past that, they could work past this. They _had to_. Besides, this wasn’t Allura misjudging him, this was Allura misunderstanding his intentions. And it had all been at the expense of Keith’s own choices and actions.

“It's...”

“No.” Allura determinedly persisted. “You've been in this team from the beginning. We were wrong not to challenge the agreement.”

Her words were unwavering, just _daring_ Keith to disagree.

“You did what you had to do.”

That was all Keith could say back. Pretending it didn't happen would just make this entire conversation pointless. But dwelling on it would also do Voltron no favours. Neither would the team carrying a heavy conscience for something that had never been simply black or white. That was diplomacy for you. _Politics._ Keith sincerely hoped they wouldn’t have to deal with tests like this again.

“Perhaps.” Clenching a fist dejectedly, Allura frowned. “Though it was not the paladin way.”

“Well, sometimes it - sometimes a paladin has to make hard choices,” Keith offered weakly. _I’m not saying I like the idea - I’m just thinking like a paladin._

“That doesn't mean it was right.” Pidge spoke up next, eyes cast down. Apparently, they _were_ dwelling on this. No matter how Keith attempted to steer them away. These were things that needed to be said, the team _wanted_ to do this _._ “We left you.”

“Don't beat yourself up about it.” Pause. Keith was back. Shiro was not. “It's in the past."

A lot of things were in the past.

“Yeah,” Hunk said with a discernible wobble. “I mean - we only kicked you out the team and cast you out and were the worst friends ever in the history of friends. No big deal.” 

This was really affecting the team, far more than Keith had ever thought it would. They were truly troubled and upset by what had happened. They felt _responsible_ for it. Silence fell as the gravity of Hunk’s words settled over them. Well, the closest thing to silence. There were the unmistakable sounds of sniffling and unsteady hums.

“Are you guys… crying?” Keith asked, feeling his own eyes prickle uncomfortably. He hoped the answer was no, _please let it be no._ He wasn’t sure he could deal with the intensity of the emotions hurtling around him.

“Pft - no way mullet! There's just something in my eye.” Keith leant closer in curiosity, and hidden amusement. “Don't look at me!”

Lance rubbed his face with his hand. Between a few tears, Allura laughed and wiped her own eyes. Oh. _God._ They really were all crying.

“I'm crying!” Hunk proclaimed, seeing there was no point in hiding it. “I can't stop crying! Oh, _Keith_ _!”_

Abruptly, the yellow paladin scooped Keith into his arms. Without warning, he was lifted into the air, feet swept off the ground. Before he could process what was going on, Hunk squeezed even more. Gasping for air, Keith clasped onto Hunk’s shoulders. Caught in a tight embrace, his eyes widened. Well. _This was new._

“Hunk?! _What_ are you-”

“-I'm so glad you’re back!” Hunk cried, spinning Keith around triumphantly. Face flushed and _embarrassment_ rising over him, all Keith could do was hold on and wait for the dizziness to pass. The yellow paladin swung him with ease, never loosening the grip. And just as the spinning stopped, his feet _finally_ touching solid ground again, Allura surged forwards to join them.

“As am I.”

Suddenly, another pair of arms wound around them. It was Kuron.

“Welcome back,” He said, patting Keith awkwardly on the shoulder. It was a bit of a stretch in the position they had huddled into. For some reason, Keith found it endearing. Pidge was next, tucking into Kuron’s side.

“You’re not a loner, so long as you have us.”

The hug was _definitely_ becoming more of a messy pile of bodies than an actual hug. But Keith couldn’t find it in him to care much about that. He’d never had anything like this before. Human touch so big and profound and with so many people. It felt special. Whilst parts of his skin were burning up with the desire to escape and _leave,_ another part of him was hopelessly clinging onto it. Yeah. He needed this.

“Coran attack!” Coran cheered, diving into the other side. “I love group hugs!”

The group stumbled, almost losing balance at the addition. That left just one person. All eyes turned expectantly to Lance. Nose lifted to the air, he folded his arms in protest. Amused looks were exchanged between the group.

“Nope, no. No. Not me! This hug is looking a little _over cramped._ So I think I’ll just wait over here and-”

“- _Get in here_.” Keith huffed fondly, reaching out through the arms engulfing him to tug Lance into the group.

They remained that way for a moment, holding dearly onto each other and sinking into the hug. Keith looked around at them all, wondering how the _hell_ the universe hadn’t fought harder against him to take this from him permanently. It liked taking stuff. The mere thought of _losing this_ had him burrowing his head against Hunk’s shoulders. Overwhelmed. Keith was completely overwhelmed by the sheer force of what he could feel in this embrace. Hot moisture leaked out his eyes, spilling onto the jacket.

Keith didn't cry much. 

When his father disappeared, he hadn’t cried. When he was found, told he’d been _left for dead_ and _uncared for_ by a cold woman with colder words and a colder heart he hadn’t cried. When the first foster home packed up his suitcase to _return him_ like an unwanted purchase, setting everything down on the porch and with it his hopes of belonging, he hadn’t cried. He hadn’t cried when it happened the second time. Or the third.  

He hadn’t cried when the words _pilot error_ had been typed onto fancy paper and handed to him by an instructor. He hadn’t cried when they offered him extenuating circumstances, or when he’d been caught helplessly throwing a few punches and forceful frustrated kicks at the simulator that did more damage to him than the damn machine. _Kerberos rescue mission simulation._ He hadn’t cried when stealing into the night on a hoverbike, the Galaxy Garrison fading out of view.

Yet here and now, it was impossible to prevent the silent tears. Daunting, even. Pushing a little more into Hunk’s shoulder, Keith rode the wave of his these fierce emotions. All his exhaustion broke over his face, all his _frustration_ erupted _,_ all his relief poured copiously out trembling hands. But nobody had to know. Nobody had to see. Inside this intimate moment were pockets of privacy to put all these things. The team had been through enough. So had he.    

As they all pulled away, recomposing themselves, Keith turned to face the skyline ahead. At least that way, he had a bit more time to pull himself together.

“We behaved terribly.” Allura bowed her head. And before that self-blame could grow any larger, Keith found himself speaking up. He felt compelled to. 

“No. I just - I couldn't shake my instinct.”

“ _Never_ shake it.” Allura startled him with both the words and the tenacity behind them. 

“Your instinct was right,” Kuron added, sounding equally as drained by the entire ordeal now they had a chance to linger in the aftermath.

“We ought to have trusted it. Lotor was planning to use us against each other the whole time.”

“And you Keith. We...we should’ve trusted you,” Hunk said quietly.

Stunned into silence, Keith blinked. It was unacceptable - how effortlessly their words could unravel him, how much _weight_ they had. He’d only just regathered the fragments of his focus. Yet already, he could feel it all swelling into things too big to articulate or contain. Holding out the black bayard, Allura nodded proudly.

“I believe this belongs to you, paladin.”

Clasping the handle, Keith bit down on a smile. It lingered in the corners, shining through his eyes. _We’re gonna bring him home_ \- _I promise._

“Thanks.”

As they made their way out the castle, Tukarians were flocking out in hushed awe to meet them. The people of Tukarius kept a distance. There was no cheering, no celebratory congratulations. When the crowd began to part, it became clear why that was. The telltale sign of guards meant nothing good.

“You!” A voice disrupted the scene, drawing all attention to them.

It was Darosa. And from the look on her face she was positively livid, storming forwards with her guards. Towards Keith. Immediately the Paladins summoned their bayards. Kuron pushed in front of Keith, bracing himself for whatever attack may come his way. They were all prepared to fight, to _protect_ him. The guards circled them, spears pointing outwards. It was just like the start of all of this. Surrounded. Only this moment was so much more pressing.

Catching Darosa’s eye, Keith stepped forwards. As he nudged past the team, they lowered their weapons reluctantly.

“I'm sorry I broke the terms to your agreement,” Keith started, bowing lightly. “It was disrespectful and I didn't mean to cause any trouble.”

“We told you to never come back,” Garoude responded curtly, stance unwelcome and closed off. It didn’t take a genius to see he wanted nothing to do with Keith or his earnest words.

“Oh yeah? Well if - if he didn't come back, we would've been toast!” Hunk countered. He didn’t seem to care _who_ he was addressing anymore.

“You're being extremely ungrateful,” Kuron stared Darosa down. “If it weren't for Keith, none of this would've been possible.”

“Keith found the blue lion,” Pidge added. “Without him we probably wouldn't even be paladins.”

“Whilst I’d like to remind you that _I_ found the blue lion, you're right.” Lance dusted off his armour. The act was all for show, even more obvious as his gaze softened towards Keith. “Without Keith, we couldn't have made it this far.”

“And we would've _never_ formed Voltron.” Allura’s posture straightened defensively.

Keith’s gaze flickered between the team in quiet wonder, rapture. All this passion and determination. It wasn't because of him, it was _for him._

“So it's your choice, Chancellor Darosa.” Leaning in, Kuron’s gaze sharpened. “You can stand with us or without us. But we're not going anywhere without Keith ever again.”

Hitching a breath, Keith processed those words. It was everything he had been waiting to hear from this Shiro. Darosa’s expression shifted into one of deep bewilderment. Head tilted, she cast her eyes to Keith.

“You would sacrifice this alliance for one person?”

“He has always been one of us,” Allura said firmly, daring anybody to question it. Nobody did.

“Yeah. Keith is family.” Lance’s words knocked the breath from Keith’s lungs as an arm slung loosely around his shoulders. Well. The team were clearly trying to kill him on the spot. “Nothing can beak that.”

“You broke the truce! You insulted our Chancellor!” one of the guards snapped furiously.

Their patience also snapped. Fast. The guard lunged. Apparently, Tukarians didn’t take too well to genuine apologies. Keith summoned his bayard instinctively. The spear inched closer. In one swift motion, Keith swiped it away. But not before the tip of the spear grazed his arm, sending a pulse of electricity through him. Jolting back with a cry, Keith barely held his ground. _Damn._ The bayard fell from his hand. Lance and Kuron were by his side at an instant, hauling him up. Around them, the other guards tensed up. The Tukarian people murmured amongst themselves, seemingly disturbed by the incident.

“Keith. _Keith,_ are you okay?”

“I’m fine.” He was hardly fine. The pain was excruciating, but showing just how much it hurt would make the look on the team’s faces worse. Make _this_ worse.

“How _dare_ you!” Allura shook with visible fury, marching forwards to Darosa. She was a force to be reckoned with. Even the guards stepped back warily. That would’ve been funny if Keith could process anything besides the sharp stinging in his arm. Raising her head, Darosa narrowed her eyes. Stubborn pride gleamed within as she inclined her head sharply.

“The demands to an alliance were clear.”

“We refuse those demands.”

Eyes wide, Keith gaped. No. _No way._ They’d beaten Lotor, they had _proved_ their strength. Pulling himself out of the supportive grip, Keith staggered forwards urgently. They needed that armoury, to protect it from Lotor. Securing this alliance was the most important thing.

“Allura, _what-”_

“Voltron fights for what is right. And what you ask for is _not right._ ”

Keith couldn’t believe what he was hearing. But he knew once Allura was set on something, much like himself, it was difficult to dissuade her. Hissing, Garoude moved to the front of the council. His teeth were bared and eyebrows drawn.

“Do not so be foolish and squander this, Altean.”

“I am squandering _nothing!_ If anyone is being foolish, it is you.”

Striding past the council, Allura spoke to the people around. Beckoning them close with her words, they soon were locked onto every word. Her voice was commanding. It wielded all the power Darosa’s could never hope to have.

“People of Tukarius, listen to me! Voltron was victorious, and we are willing to protect you and your world.”

Already, the crowd were bustling and completely enticed by her speech. Keith watched her smoothly assume control of the situation. It was unspeakably impressive. The people believed her, they _wanted_ to. With Darosa, however, the people looked like they felt obliged to believe her. The difference was palpable now Allura was speaking. Pointing to the sky, she continued.

“Your former allies fled in the face of battle - _against us_. They were not the first, and they will not be the last. Together we can become stronger and restore peace across the universe! ”

“We need Voltron!” someone in the crowd yelled. It started with one voice, one passionate voice. And just like that, the chanting began. _Voltron! Voltron! Voltron!_

Turning back to the council, crowd growing more enthusiastic in _their demands,_ Allura raised an eyebrow. Tucked into the corner of her mouth was a smile far from diplomatic and barely suppressed. Almost smug. Rightly so, Keith thought. This was a checkmate of the most brilliant design.

Darosa searched the expressions of the paladins. They too were resolved, taking in the praise and support of the Tukarians. Slowly, her eyes rested on Keith. He stood his ground, more assured now he could hear the encouragements. That, and the sting of the spear had dissipated.

“The ties you have to each other are very strong.” Darosa admitted. With that, she made haste to depart the calamity. But not before delivering some final words, something close to a rueful smile flashing over her face.

“I hope we can make the same ties together.”

**♞**

“Is this gonna become a habit of yours?” Keith teased, standing up from the bed he’d _just_ settled on. “Barging into my room?"

With a quick swipe, he quickly shoved the marmora communication device into his trousers. It felt good, to be out of suits - _all kinds of suits -_ and back in casual clothes. It _didn't_ feel good hiding things from Lance or the team. Not when Keith was so _driven_ to be upfront and honest. Not when he’d chided Allura for exactly the same thing once upon a time. But Keith couldn't get ahead of himself here. That was something this entire ordeal had shown him.

Taking the words as permission to enter, Lance folded his arms. He lingered close to the doorway. That was a little unusual, but Keith was running on the final wisps of energy. Exhaustion hovered close, hovering over all of them.

“So,” he prompted whilst leaning on the edge of the bed. “What couldn't wait until dinner with the others?”

“You came back in a marmora suit.” The question rang clear.

Sighing, Keith moved from the bed.

“That’s true. But there's not much to tell.”

There wasn't much he _could_ tell.

“When I left the team, Lotor tried to get me to join him. But you already know that. What you don’t know is I refused and he didn't like that very much. Once I managed to get away, I ran into Kolivan. Turns out he’d been keeping tabs on us the whole time.” A small wry smile. It wasn’t the whole story or remotely accurate. But it was something. “Kolivan got my head back into gear.”

“A blade peptalk,” Lance mused, raising a fist into the air. “Sounds awesome.”

“Ha.” Keith ducked his head, stifling the laugh too late.

“What?”

“Just…” tilting his head, Keith smiled. Everything about his demeanour was laced in amusement. “Looks like you're growing a mullet now too, huh.”

Reaching for his hair, Lance glared.

“Well look at you making jokes and being the cool guy and _smiling.”_ There was no bite in the words, just a playfulness that passed between them.

“You should get some rest, Lance. Come tomorrow, we’ve got a lot to do.”

“Ugh.” Groaning, Lance slumped forwards miserably. “Tell me about it. I don't know if I can _bear_ another meeting with these people. Allura says there's gonna be one more day of negotiations, then we can get out of here.”

“It’s just one day.” Keith nudged Lance lightly as we walked by, slipping on his jacket. “If we can handle today, I say we can handle whatever tomorrow brings.”

“Yeah.” Lance rubbed the back of his head. “Mark this down in the team calendar as the worst and best day _ever.”_

“Got it,” Keith said with a grin. As Lance headed to the door, he took a step forwards. “Hey, Lance.”

Stopping at the doorway, Lance waited. Their eyes met slowly, raw compassion lingering around them. It had Keith faltering with his words, fumbling around the silence. Once upon a time, he never would've _imagined_ they’d make it to the point of being friends like this. But _god,_ he was glad they had persevered and got there. Lance had stuck by him this entire time. He’d called out Keith when he messed up, but he also pushed him to make things right. He done his best, patiently remaining by Keith’s side.

“Thanks for what you said back there. About us being family.”

It didn't feel like nearly enough. Those words meant more than Keith could begin to express, he honestly wasn’t sure _how to._ Fortunately, Lance seemed to get it. A timid smile slipped over his face before leaving the room. The door closed, and Keith was once again alone.

Not _lonely,_ though.

Falling onto the bed, he pressed his eyes shut. A content smile slid over his face. He was back. He was _home._ And silently, he vowed to never let anything sabotage his family again. Inhaling slowly, he focused on the depth of his breath. God. He was tired. He was so very tired. Keith lowered the walls, unwound the tension inside - only to be disturbed by laughter in his pocket. Tugging the device out, Keith pressed the middle button. A silver hologram of Shiro appeared before him, evidently finding something funny.

“What?” Keith probed almost irritably, _he was tired,_ setting the device down on the bed. “Have you forgotten you're on the other side of the galaxy right now?”

“I just… never thought I’d see the day you two got along like that.”

_Oh._

Smiling, Keith glanced to the door. He and Lance had come a long way, that was for sure. From petty bickering and riling each other up, to crossing over the bridge together and strengthening their bond.

“I knew you had it in you.” Shiro beamed, pulling Keith’s focus back. Even through a hologram, his smile was warm and reassuring. Keith sunk into it willingly. Support from Shiro was always something he’d treasure.

“You held your own out there, and you knew your team. You knew who to turn to at the right times. I'm proud of you.”

Shrugging, Keith crushed his lips together.

“I was just doing what you taught me.”

“I disagree.” Shiro didn't sound like he was starting conflict, more offering another angle. “What you did out there on the battlefield wasn't something taught or _learnt,_ Keith. It was everything that makes you _you._ Everything that has always set you out for greatness.”

 _Well._ Keith reached for the device.

“I’ll turn it off,” he warned, risking a glance up to Shiro who was pouting of all things. “You're being embarrassing.”

“Oh _come on!_ ” Shiro laughed. “Let me have this.”

“You should’ve seen Allura when we landed.” Recalling the events, Keith met Shiro’s eyes. It had really been something. “She handled the Tukarians like a pro out there. Darosa didn’t stand a chance turning us down.”

“Remind me never to get on her bad side.”

It was a passing trivial comment, fleeting. A joke that didn’t quite make it to the punchline. Keith understood why immediately. The team were _so close,_ but also far. Shiro was here. But he wasn’t. For so long, Shiro had been separated from them _and the others didn’t even know_ . This situation wasn’t the best. Hearing about the team, _hearing the team_ with Keith - it was bound to be hard. Clearing his throat, Keith opted in changing the subject.

“The suit looks good on you.” He smirked, leaning back on the bed. The distraction was welcomed, Shiro’s eyes flicking back up. “Did you have to take a trial to get it?”

Shiro laughed, releasing some of the tension he had been holding. Keith had missed the sound. Even when Shiro was here - had been here - with them in space, it was rare. Shiro hardly did anything for himself. That even included laughing.

“No trial.” Gaze softened. “This is just temporary so I don't stick out so much as we move. I'm not like you, Keith.”

They fell into a brief stasis. One neither of them wanted to break. Because just for a moment, it could last. And both of them understood that it really _couldn't_ last. Not with the backdrop of the Galra empire. There was a mission to focus on, a universe depending on their choices. Both of them had important things to do. Sitting around and having a chat couldn’t happen. They had to make the most of their time.

“So.” Keith stood adjacent to the hologram of Shiro, arms folded. “Did you find anything out yet?”

“Not much. Only that there's been a whole load of clone attempts and this one is the only successful subject.”

Keith frowned at that.

“Why would they want to clone you?”

“Because they always wanted me to be their weapon. Even now, fighting against them has been used as a weapon.”

Eyes trailing over the prosthetic, Keith reached out. His hand met static, a slight jolt of electricity pulsed through him. Hologram. Right. He’d almost fooled himself into thinking Shiro was actually here. Shiro looked down at his arm, eyes resting on the place where Keith had tried to touch. Patting a hand over the spot, he laughed.

It was hollow, bleak. Everything a laugh shouldn’t be. With his head bowed, Keith couldn’t see his expression. And that was unnerving, but it had to be respected. Shiro didn’t want him to see, for whatever reason. So Keith retreated to the bed, waiting quietly. He would always do what Shiro needed. Even if it was to wait and pull back.

A moment passed, and then Shiro lifted his head. He searched Keith’s eyes leisurely. Keith indulged him, perhaps exposing too much.

“What do I have to do, Shiro?” He asked, voice low and hushed.

“Keep doing what you're doing,” Shiro replied. “We don't have enough information to make a move. But Kolivan is working on it.”

“Like an infiltration mission? Send in some sort of spy?” Keith asked curiously. His mind wandered to Thace for a moment. It was a good way to get intel, but risky. _Costly._

“Yeah. Something like that,” Shiro said ambiguously. He tried to manage a smile, but failed. Keith caught it all a second too late, eyes drifting from the wall back to the hologram. The question that had been caught between his teeth finally needed to be asked.

“What about the others?”

“You can't tell them about Kuron. They have to believe it's me.”

It was clear, then. If Shiro had the chance to have it entirely his way, Keith would also be out the loop. Nobody would know. That revelation didn't anger Keith, or upset him. Instead, it worried him. Because it meant Shiro was choosing the safety and wellbeing of Voltron over his own. It meant Shiro believed he wasn't essential to the team. He would shoulder it all, try to hold up every star in the galaxy. Shiro would sacrifice himself and his place without any doubts, _he was doing that._ Bowing his head, Keith grit his teeth. _Damn this._

“How many times are you gonna give it all up for everybody else?”

Shiro turned to him, eyes softening.

“As many times as it takes.”

 _As many times as it takes._ Fist clenched, Keith raised his head and met Shiro’s eyes defiantly.

“Then I’ll be there.”

“Keith.” Shiro sounded concerned and it was _wrong_ because the concern wasn't for himself.

“I’ll be there everytime so we give it all right back to you.”

“I don't doubt that.” Shiro smiled weakly. “Keep them safe.”

“Keep _yourself_ safe,” Keith countered smoothly. _Insistently._ “Let me know when you find out more.”

“Roger that.” Pause. “You're a good leader, Keith. And remember no matter what Kuron says or does, I'm always on your side.”

“I don't doubt that.” He parroted Shiro’s words back with a nod.

Shuffling, Shiro averted his gaze. He became less certain, Keith could establish that much from the telltale quirks. There were words he was grappling over saying. But whatever he was going to say, it was worth hearing. Once again, Keith waited on the outskirts.

“I think Kuron is on your side too.”

_What._

“I mean, you’ve seen him. He's still me at least a little, isn't he? He has parts of me. He was made _from_ me. He's not like the clone Haggar created from magic that was pure evil. He's different.”

“But he's not real.” The fear rose up in Keith, because he was _not_ settling for losing the real Shiro ever. Even if he could see the logic in Shiro’s words, understand it.

“He isn’t. But I don't think he knows that. He's learning, and he's scared. I know I would be too.”

 _You can stand with us or without us. But we're not going anywhere without Keith ever again._ Kuron had spoken with such assurance, the kind of belief and unwavering support Shiro would hold. Although Kuron wasn’t Shiro, he had pieces of Shiro in him.

“I’ll look out for him too.” It was a compromise Keith would abide by. Regrettably, he couldn't deny Shiro was right here. Nothing about this situation was black and white anymore. Lotor’s generals, the Tukarians, _everything_ proved that.

“Good.” Perking up, Shiro grinned. “Hey, maybe you can teach him some things.”

Humming absently, Keith’s eyes trailed to the door. It had been too long since he’d left the team. Someone was bound to come searching for him soon. They were supposed to be going over preparations for tomorrow’s meeting over dinner.

“I gotta go now,” he started, clutching the device in his hands. “The others are waiting for me.”

“Go. I’ll contact you soon,” Shiro assured him, severing the connection without warning. The abrupt end was a slight shock. However, Keith appreciated that. It was too raw, having to say goodbye. Even if it wasn't permanent, it was too much. Not to mention the hasty departure just gave both of them more reason to make sure they would be talking again to finish the conversation properly. Fingers curled around the device, Keith closed his eyes.

_Keep doing what you're doing._

**♞**

The final meeting to secure the alliance had gone well. Allura steered them easily through the majority of it, everyone else speaking up when asked to. Keith said very little; they joked about it on the way home to the castle. With an alliance officially formed, the armoury secured, it was time for Team Voltron to chart their course away from planet Tukarius.

As Keith stepped onto the bridge, he was greeted by an array of welcoming smiles. It was almost unnerving, _strange_ to see so much devotion and kindness cast his way in one go. Kindness was a curious thing, often evading him on earth and hardly present. Funny how in the vast expanse of space, on a ship with just seven people, it was overwhelming. Clearing his throat, Keith awkwardly fumbled his way to the control panel.

“So chief,” Keith rolled his eyes at that. Lance just had to milk it on purpose didn't he. “What's our next move?”

"A quick stop off at the space mall wouldn't go amiss - may I remind you Keith owes me a jacket!" The royal blue jacket was probably blown to pieces with parts of Lotor's ship. Coran was now dressed in a purple jacket that must've come from somewhere in the castle. The colour suited him, accentuated the moustache in a bemusing way. Biting down a smile, Keith replied. 

“I'll make it up to you, Coran." That was all that was offered, now wasn't exactly the time for team banter or smalltalk. "We delivered some pretty hefty damage to Lotor's ship, but it's not enough. Just like Lotor came here, he’ll go to other worlds for back up.”

Something told Keith that Lotor wasn't going to go running back to his father for reinforcements or supplies. He’d strive to do it his own way, keep this loss as hushed as possible. That spoke volumes.

“We need to think like him,” Keith continued. “If Lotor really wants to win his war, then he's gonna want all the resources he can get to take us out for good.”

“Now Tukarius has broken free from the ISC, others could follow suit. Lotor may try to target those planets.” Kuron stood beside Keith’s seat. Glancing up, Keith nodded in agreement. Having spoken with the _real_ Shiro recently, the gaping differences between the pair of them were all he could see. And behind all of that was someone Shiro had predicted: somebody learning, trying. Somebody scared. Kuron was out of his depth.

“Good point.” Keith wasn’t going to let him sink any further. He raised an eyebrow. “What’s on your mind?”

“Well for now, it's safe to say he’ll be looking for a new ship and trying to patch up the damage.”

“So we use this time to make more alliances?” Lance ventured, not sounding particularly thrilled about the prospect of more meetings and negotiations. Kuron turned back to Keith which was a surprise, waiting for his decision.

“No.”

Pidge sat up.

“But you _just said-_ ”

“-We let our allies start the fire. Think about it.” Keith reeled off the allies they’d made. “The Olkari, the Arusians, the Tukarians-”

“-Shay and the Balmerans,” added Hunk.

“ _Exactly._  All the planets we've saved and the people we've helped, we send them a message.”

“If we were to do it alone, it would take decaphebes,” Allura conceded. “This could greatly benefit us.”

“Right. Then let's get to work,” Kuron placed a hand on Keith’s shoulder. For the first time, Keith wondered if it was to steady  _himself_ as opposed to offering support Keith could do without. Glancing up at Kuron, he met those grey eyes curiously. There were questions there. So many. None of which Kuron asked. “And Voltron?”

Drawing his attention away, Keith addressed the group.

“Back to basics. We need to get more familiar with the new formation. Bond with our lions, start training together again.”

“Keith in charge of the training deck?” Lance’s shoulders slumped. “This is gonna be _hell._ I thought Allura was bad.”

At that, Allura cast Lance an apologetic - _near_ sheepish - smile; a cheeky thumbs up and wink was thrown back.

“Lotor has always been one step ahead. He caught us at a bad time and used it against us. But Shiro’s here now.” Pause. Keith looked up at Kuron, mustering every ounce of conviction into his smile. His fingers brushed over the device in his pocket. Technically, _he wasn't lying_.

“The only thing holding us back is ourselves. It's time we stop chasing him and even out the field. This is how."

Standing, Keith walked towards the door. It was clear where he was headed: the training deck. Best not to waste the time they had whilst Lotor was temporarily out the game, after all. 

“Are you with me?” he asked, not looking back.

The question didn't need an answer, because in the interstices between he heard it resonating.

There were footsteps behind him.

The team followed. They _wanted_ to follow.

They were with him.


End file.
